Stealing Spring
by Forbidden Prose
Summary: The story of Hades and Persephone. Our interpretation of how these two very different beings could find love. An ongoing roleplay by two authors.
1. Chapter 1

Her mother was near. She could always feel when her mother was nearby. Persephone did not call out to her, for she knew that Demeter wanted her to stop delaying their departure from the forest. In all fairness, she should not be so childish. It wasn't Demeter's fault that they were forced to go to the ceremony. Every one hundred years, Zeus had one to make sure that all gods, old and new, paid tribute to the Three. Zeus demanded that all immortal beings acknowledged that they served the great Three Brothers, but he only insisted that the greatest do so in person.

Persephone had never been to one of these ceremonies, for children of the greatest gods were not usually required to go. She never wanted to go to any ceremony in which she would be required to offer pretty words to make the Three happy, and her mother did not want her to go either. Her mother always made sure that Persephone was never allowed near other gods and their violent tendencies. Demeter was fierce in her protection of her daughter.

Persephone never begrudged her mother's dominant protection. She knew that she was only protecting her daughter from her own fate: Demeter was taken by Zeus, left with his daughter, and forced to acknowledge her allegiance to him and his brothers in front of all of the other gods and his vindictive and unforgiving wife. Persephone always thought her mother brave and good, and she loved her dearly, yet she wished to be left alone to the sanctuary of her beloved forest.

In the safety of her dear olive tree, she lounged like a feline, waiting until that damn Apollo would stop lingering with his unbearable heat to try and catch a glimpse of her. If she were to step out in his sunlight, his desire would burn her skin. Even though no god dared to force a daughter of Zeus, many of them made their desires known.

And all of them would be at this ceremony, which filled her with dread. The idea of being trapped in a room with the many hungry-eyed gods sent chills down her spine. Even with her mother there, no good could come from the interactions she would face tonight. There were too many greedy males and too many jealous females.

_It was probably Hera's idea._ Persephone thought. _She probably said something to Zeus._ The goddess hated all of Zeus's illegitimate children, but she would not cross Demeter. While mortals suffered the wrath of Hera, the immortals suffered only what she dared to cross them with. In her passive aggressive ways, she was able to manipulate Zeus with pretty words and reminders of how he once wanted her more than any other woman in the universe. She knew that Demeter was shielding Persephone from the attention of the other gods, so she probably made a comment to Zeus about how odd it was that one of his own immortal children was never present at the ceremony for the Three.

"It's time to leave, Persephone."

"I know, Mother." There was little use in protesting, or demanding that Demeter fight Zeus on this. She knew that Zeus would like nothing more than to make an example of his power over the rest of them during one of these ceremonies, if only to prove that he was indeed their king.

"Change yourself."

Persephone sighed and gracefully fell from the tree, landing on two dainty feet. Despite having lived her entire immortal existence in a forest, her skin was as flawlessly white and smooth as a pearl. She shone with a glow that was independent of the sun or moon or fire. The light of life itself radiated from her body: from her flawless skin, to her deep golden brown eyes. Even her hair—which was a blend of every color of dark brown, gold, and auburn in the forest all woven together—held a strange glow. Her temperature warmed whatever was around her. Her very presence eased the pain of any mortal nearby. She was not the most beautiful goddess that existed (that title belonged to Aphrodite), but she had something about her that drew others close. The warmth, the electricity that came off of her skin was intoxicating—even to the immortals that never needed to fear death.

She was life itself, and while clinging to life, the gods showed how very similar they were to the mortals that they terrorized.

She waited as her mother called on nymphs to dress her with cold metal and uncomfortable cloth. The forest creatures answered immediately, for many of them knew Persephone well, and they all loved a good game of dressing the lovely goddess like a princess. They dressed her in soft pink material with gold jewelry: a gold necklace, a thick golden belt around her waist, gold bracelets, gold rings, and a gold crown that held her flowing hair out of her face. She would not wear earrings, though. Demeter's protection extended so that she would not allow even the flesh of her daughter's ears to be pierced.

"Come, Persephone. And remember, you are to stay near me at all times."

She nodded. There was probably little to tempt her away from her mother's side, anyway.

Hermes was with them almost at once. The handsome messenger god always volunteered a flying chariot for Demeter, in hopes of gaining her favor—but, especially when Persephone was with her. They could have arrived on Demeter's power alone, but even gods grew tired, and Demeter wanted to be at full strength while her daughter was with her. It did help their image to arrive in the most impressive chariot in the heavens. The vision of a viciously protective mother arriving with her daughter in the most impressive chariot of one of Zeus's most beloved gods was intimidating, to say the least.

"What should I say when it comes time to speak?" Persephone asked while watching the earth fly beneath her.

"You will not be asked to speak. You are my daughter. You will walk behind me, and bow with me. They do not need your allegiance."

Persephone was glad that they didn't. She wouldn't know what kind of pretty words the Three would require of a spring goddess.

Zeus was her father, so she could offer him loving words as a daughter, even if they were untrue. She would praise him as King of the Skies, and she knew what kind of words he would like to hear. And she knew Poseidon well enough from their encounters. He was just as arrogant as Zeus, and thought himself too great to seek the attention of a spring goddess. But it was rumored that more than arrogance, he was happily married, and he would take whatever words she offered him with little thought to them.

But the third brother, the dark one… She had never met him before. Persephone had heard horrible stories about him. He was everything she was not: darkness and death; She was light and life. What would she say to him? Her very existence mocked him. How could she offer him words of allegiance when her very power challenged all that he was?

Death.

"I saw a mortal die, earlier." She said to her mother.

"Oh? I'm sorry. I know such things upset you." Her mother gave a pat to her daughter's hand, but it was not comforting. It lingered too long, almost grasping her wrist, as if the very idea that death had come near to her daughter was offensive.

"Yes… He was in a great deal of pain, I think," she said, pronouncing pain as all immortals did, as if it were a word foreign to them, "So I stepped out of the forest to look at him. He stopped moving on the ground and just looked at me. He smiled before he died… And I hope he's happy, now." She always commented on the _now_ part of death, but she knew so little about it. It frightened her, but in a way, it fascinated her. Yet her mother was fierce in her determination to keep her daughter ignorant of death.

"That was kind of you. And I'm sure he is."

Persephone nodded, but she did not comment further.

They arrived in just the fashion that Demeter intended. There were many gazes fixed upon them, and when they finally approached the gates, many gods seemed eager to escort Persephone into the main hall.

It was large and decorated very finely, as no other place could be. It was all very beautiful, but nothing drew her eye long enough to make her lose sight of her mother walking in front of her. When they were all standing still, and Demeter had taken her rightful place in the long line of gods in front of Zeus's throne, Persephone stood next to her with a strained heart.

All males looked to her, even with the beautiful Aphrodite present and half naked in a lounging chair. Some tried to catch her eye, but she never let her eyes linger in one place for too long. There was whispering in the hall now. She could feel stolen glances in her direction. There was dark chuckling from the males in the room, all whispering to one another in filthy humor at her expense. There was vindictive and unforgiving whispering from the women in the room, all of them bitter for the loss of male attention.

"Persephone!" She looked around to see Artemis walking to her, pulling her into a hug in front of all of the other gods and goddesses.

"Everyone must speak today, even you. Prepare your words. You do not have to have many, just make them sweet. To each of the Three."

Persephone grasped onto her friend as the other goddess whispered. In a moment, Artemis was off to speak to another, and the glowing spring goddess was whispering her fears to her mother, who immediately began to tell Persephone what she should say.

The ceremony began with a brief introduction from Hermes, which was completely pointless when all knew why they were there and what was expected of them. The Three sat on their thrones in their most impressive garb, waiting for each Olympian to pledge themselves to the greater glory of the Three, and Persephone wished she were an ordinary mortal who was too insignificant to be bothered with. She never understood mortals or their struggles, but she longed for their insignificance, if only to be allowed to hide from all of the gods in the room. Even as the Three sat before them all, many eyes were fixed upon her. She could feel them crawling along every inch of her pearly white skin, and lingering with frustration on the parts covered by her dress. All males watched her hungrily, and all females watched her with contempt. And she would be forced to speak in front of all of these unforgiving people.

Members of the great Twelve came before the Three first, beginning with Athena. The war goddess was always out to prove her superiority, being among her father's favorite children, and no one dared claim their rights over her. She spoke of victory and power, which were things she wanted to subtly remind others that she knew much about. She had no children to claim, so she was finished quickly.

Next came Hermes, one of Zeus's favorite companions, and he gave a witty, even humorous speech about the glory of the Three compared to the rest of them. Hermes was well liked by all, but he was so passionately devoted to Zeus that Persephone could not stomach the thought of being even his friend.

Ares, the son of Zeus and Hera, came forward and gave a great bow to the Three. He spoke about his role as son in relation to the great King of the Olympians, and then he spoke of his gratitude towards Poseidon for his help winning a recent great battle at sea. Ares spoke most passionately to Hades, the dark one, and pledged his word to continue sending great mortal heroes to keep Hades entertained.

Persephone shivered at the way the war god spoke of death and destruction. As Ares turned away, he passed Persephone and paused for a moment—giving her a significant nod—daring to show her attention in front of all of the other gods. It was his way to make his claim in front of the others, stating his intentions clearly. He only knew how to act in confrontation. Persephone did not lower her eyes to him, but when he finally passed, she exhaled heavily and moved closer to her mother, who was dark with fury.

Aphrodite and Hephaestus came forth next and gave their honor and pledges as a married couple. Hephaestus was not gifted with eloquent words, but he kept his oath straightforward and honest. Aphrodite naturally assumed that the Three were adoring her with their eyes, so she gave the same short pledges as her husband, lingering in all of the right places to make each syllable sound sensual. The idea that they were even presenting themselves as a married couple was a laugh. Aphrodite was known to sleep with any god or mortal that pleased her. She favored Ares as a lover, but she would seek any god she wished, regardless of their relation to her. It was rumored that she kept handsome mortal men prisoners within her temples, but Persephone did not like to think of such things.

Apollo and Artemis came next and gave their pledges as sacred twins of the almighty Zeus. Artemis pleased Zeus, but Apollo often gave him trouble—for he was the sun god and Zeus was the god of the Heavens. The two often argued over what went on in the skies, but today, Apollo wisely let Artemis do most of the talking.

The time then came for Demeter and her daughter to go before the Three. Persephone felt a little more secure in her role here, for many of the other gods had offered simple pledges and nothing more. She felt better about offering her little words to them, especially since her mother was more important than she was.

Her mother began first, and she gave a speech about the relationship between her domain, the earth, and the Three. The speech was over quickly, and Demeter stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not to allow her daughter to speak. She relented, and spoke with a calm voice that hid no great deal of warnings and dark promises.

"May I present to you, my daughter." She moved to the side to reveal her precious pearl-skinned Persephone, with cascading hair that fell to her knees, shimmering in of all shades of brown and gold. Her jewelry illuminated the gold in her eyes, and her pixie-like form moved with all of the grace and warmth of a slight breeze in the forest. Demeter held out her right hand, and Persephone placed her hand in it before giving a graceful bow to the three. "Persephone," Demeter said, "Goddess of the Spring. Goddess of Life. Daughter of the Earth."

A moment passed, and with careful dainty steps, the little goddess with skin that glowed with a white light all of its own, spoke to the Three with a voice that reminded one of flower petals and bird songs.

"My great and dear King, I stand before you a humble and proud daughter. My greatest wish is to be worthy of such a father." She bowed her head to her father, who smiled with pride at a child he barely knew. His smile for Persephone was one of triumph. He had taken Demeter, and this beautiful goddess before him was the proof. He had no fatherly love for her, but he loved her for what she really was. She was a trophy that proved his masculine dominance to the world—and the sickest part of it all was that his conquest loved his trophy more than he did. Persephone gave him words of pride, yet she felt sick and weak within her heart. She longed for her clean, safe forest.

"Great Poseidon, your horses run through my forests and tell me of your glory. From your children, in the rivers and streams, I hear about the power and beauty of the world around my mother's earth. I praise your name and your Kingdom." This god nodded, his eyes flickering away from her almost immediately. She didn't blame him for longing to be back in his own world.

The last and most terrifying god was next. Demeter had given her words for the first two, yet the last had stumbled her words. Persephone could not raise her eyes to meet his, knowing that if she did, she would lose all of her ability to speak.

"Great Hades... great Hades, I honor you. Your power extends beyond my mother's world, beyond my own understanding. I honor and fear you, great Hades." Though she had faltered in her praises to him when she began, she had stated a humble pledge that would please any god. Immortals had little to fear in the world, even from one another. Most gods would love the beautiful, young goddess to pledge their fear of them. That made males happy. Didn't it?

Either way, Demeter pulled Persephone back, and after another small bow, they both retreated to their original places. They watched the other gods give their pledges, and Demeter promised to take Persephone away the moment they were free to leave. Persephone's throat was tight and dry from speaking in front of so many, and now that the lesser gods were speaking, the most powerful gods could give their attentions to Persephone. Some stole glances, others bravely let their gazes linger on her, but she could do little more than keep her eyes lowered to the floor and stay close to her mother.

"Persephone, perhaps you would care to join me later in my chambers?" Athena, with her grey eyes, asked with false friendship in her voice. Even though she was a woman, Athena was dangerous in her ambition to be completely dominant over all creatures. The thought of ever submitting to a man, even in bed, was sickening to her. She was known to be an aggressive lover of maidens, which allowed her to keep her status of virgin goddess. But, this was another area of conquest that she was determined to compete in among her fellow gods. She was known to take maidens the same way that gods took them, and was respected as a result, but Persephone did not trust her.

"No, thank you." She said in reply, turning her attentions back to the ceremony. Persephone knew that Athena would love to boast of such a conquest to the other gods, but Persephone did not fear the war goddess. Athena might be able to overcome her if she had to, but the goddess would never risk ruining her good relation to Persephone's mother. Good weather was needed for battle, and Athena could not risk it. She could, however, take on the tactic of seduction rather than forcing her.

"Are you sure? I would love to see you. We should not be strangers to one another. I would enjoy a more intimate relationship..." The war goddess let a finger with a sharp nail run down Persephone's smooth skin, but the spring goddess moved away from her touch. Persephone would have none of it.

"I would not. Thank you." A quick glare from Demeter sent the other goddess away, and Persephone took in a long sigh of both regret and depression. She felt like everyone was a danger to her. Her forest was dark and safe; she longed to return to it.


	2. Chapter 2

As a shadow is the absence of light, so is the Underworld a shadow of the life men must leave behind. It is a kingdom like any other, with rules and order to maintain, and accommodations for every class of occupant. Where the differences lie are not so much in the way things are run, but in the way they feel.

The ruler of the Underworld was clad all in black robes and a black crown, set with jewels that had no discernible color of their own, resting on hair whiter than snow could ever be. And yet, there was a vibrance to his presence that could not be ignored. Where the shades and specters around him were lesser for their lack of light, he alone was more for it. Though black as the blackest night under Nyx's cloak, the god's eyes were not empty. They held unfathomable depths—histories and secrets kept eternally under lock and key. The unyielding one, they called him. And any who looked upon those eyes understood the name.

Hades stood now before a man who had not been long removed from his life. But he appeared ill, if a specter could appear as such. He clutched his arms and shoulders as though trying desperately to hold himself together, for all that he no longer had a mortal body to hold.

"You won't drink?" asked Hades. He held a sparkling glass goblet in his hand.

He knew the man had been brought here because he refused to drink from the waters of the river Lethe. This was among the few requirements for remaining in Hades' realm. He needn't ask the man to repeat what his servants had already informed him. But, he was giving the newcomer a chance to speak his own mind on the matter.

"I- I can't, my lord. My grace, my-" The specter gasped. He shook his head, violently. "I won't forget it. I can't forget it. I can't..."

Under the weight of the god's stare, he couldn't look his new ruler in the face. He looked at the floor, at the walls, at the air: all as colorless and unforgiving as their master.

"That's why we have the water," Hades said. He spoke as though in conversation, though everyone in the throne room heard every note of his voice. "You'll be happier, having forgotten. You won't miss your loved ones."

The frail shadow of a man shook his head again. "Not my family. That's not it. No, I saw- before I died, I saw..." He put his hands to his head, soothing pain that didn't truly exist. There were always complications when attempting to maintain one's living memories after their final crossing. Death wasn't meant to work that way.

"I saw her. A goddess. But not like- I mean, I wouldn't know, but..." he looked finally into Hades' eyes. "Are they all like that?" He paused, still for a precious moment, his eyes gone wide. "All light and beauty and... Life. I couldn't look away." He returned to shaking, fidgeting. "Y- you can't make me forget her."

The death god said nothing for a moment, but he looked upon the man in thought. His pale expression was marked with subtle wrinkles as he contemplated. They were the only indication of the effort he put forth to understand.

"No." He said finally. They weren't all like that. But he didn't have the time to try to impart understanding of the gods to the common folk. "You must drink."

He didn't need to do anything. At least, it seemed that way to the onlookers. His voice was commanding, but there was more to it than mere tone. The very fabric of his realm seemed to respond to that voice. A coldness, and a strange sort of comfort, floated in the air. Once Hades spoke, he held out the goblet to the shivering specter.

"I can't," the man said. But his voice was weak; he sounded like he might be about to cry.

"It will be worse, if you don't." And he knew by now that he did not have to tell him. The man had lasted long enough trying to cling to his old life. And it wasn't working, because it never worked.

Besides, if he insisted upon his refusal any longer, Hades would have to punish him. That also, need not be said.

"I know," said the man. But it was hardly audible. And, still trembling, he reached out for the goblet of water. As soon as he lifted it to his lips, Hades turned sharply to one of the beings that had brought the man to him.

"Take him to the meadows. And back to work, all of you."

Without wasting a second, he turned to leave, and his servants gradually got over the spectacle and returned to their duties. Now, more than ever, Hades was not looking forward to where he had to be next. But he had no more excuses for wasting time.

He wondered, though, about the man and the goddess of light that he had seen. It was strange that he couldn't guess which of his kin the man had laid eyes upon. True, he had few details to give. But it was all in the way he had spoken. Any goddess was a vision of loveliness to a mortal, but few had the beauty to penetrate even a mind clouded with death. He wondered about it right up until his dark home faded and unearthly light fell upon his pallid face.

To go from one moment in the halls of his own palace to the next looking upon the steps of Olympus was not usually a jarring experience for a god. But Hades' expression went sour in the daylight. Even with a god's vibrancy, he took on a sickly, discolored complexion when he was forced to spend time in the over-world. It didn't help that he could muster up no desire to be there.

The gates were open, as many gods both Olympian and not were attending the event. Some looked at him and some didn't, but not for lack of feeling his presence. There were all the whispers and quickly turned faces that he was accustomed to ignoring. The few who tried to greet him, for whatever motives, only received a curt nod and the occasional attempt at a smile. The only person he had any interest in speaking to (and this depended entirely on one's interpretation of the word interest) was his youngest brother.

Ever the center of attention, Hades found Zeus doing what one might call mingling with the crowds. Nowhere near where he needed to be for his own pointless ceremony; of course, no one could tell the King of the Gods where he needed to be.

"Brother!" Zeus noticed him and called out before Hades could find a more subtle way to approach. He held himself straight and tall as he moved through the parting crowd. He didn't want to look at any of them, and he didn't need to. They kept their distance with no encouragement.

"I thought I would be late," Hades said, displaying no concern over that fact. Though he did cast a glance toward the line that was beginning to organize. "Maybe we both should be," he added, but quieter, and not for his brother's benefit.

Zeus hardly seemed to pay attention to what he was saying. He folded his arms over his mostly-uncovered chest and observed the gathering like it was something he'd made with his own hands—a creation to be proud of. Hades did not look that way again; he continued to face his brother.

Zeus laughed a deep and self-confident chuckle. "Yes, you're right. I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting. Come on, then."

Hades didn't bother to point out that he had said nothing of the sort. He was about to ask where the last of their almighty trio had gotten to when he saw that Poseidon was already making his way over to the thrones set up for the occasion. Hades wasn't sure if he had the right idea or not. Better to stall, or to get it over with?

As they started walking, together but not in unison, Hades said as he did every hundred years: "You do realize you're the only one who enjoys this charade?" By now it was more a statement than a question.

Zeus shrugged it off, as expected. "Always have to be the pessimist, don't you? Guess it all comes from drawing the short stick."

Hades' eyes steeled. He shouldn't have said anything.

"You just don't understand how to deal with others. It's understandable. Trust me, this ceremony is for the good of keeping things in order up here. Remind everyone of exactly where they stand."

Hades kept silent. As the Three Brothers took their places, Hades hesitated before sitting down, and looked out over the crowd of faces waiting to give him what they would call due respect. Liars, every one of them. _Where they stand, indeed._

He took his seat on Zeus' right side, with Poseidon on Zeus' left where he could not gauge his thoughts. But, he didn't particularly care. The whole thing would be over soon enough, and then he could go home.

And so the Three Brothers sat: Hades, in black, and alien to the bright world around him. Zeus, in red, and smiling not unlike a mortal who'd had too much wine. And Poseidon, in blue, content enough and more than likely bored already. What a magnificent trio they made.

Hades, for his part, did try to stay attentive during the proceedings. As little as he cared for the nonsense, he was not looking to draw undue attention to himself. At least, none more than the usual. He sat straight and stern, his face set in cold stone. He nodded solemnly at the dressed-up words of Athena and Hermes. His brothers thanked them; Hades acknowledged them.

Ares held his attention, but only in the way of a fool or other entertainment. He couldn't abide many of Zeus' spoiled children, and Ares was as much a child in his eyes as a kindred god ever could be. He spoke of sending heroes to Hades, with glory for the killing and little knowledge of what came after. Hades clenched his jaw, unseen, and nodded.

When Ares finished, Hades was more than glad to be free of the sound of his voice. But he kept watching as the young god made a show of impressing some girl. It wasn't out of character for him, but it got him the attention he was looking for. Hades could see that she was beautiful, but he could not discern who she was amidst all the others. He didn't think it anything worth lingering on.

But after Aphrodite made a spectacle of herself and a puppet of her husband, and the celestial twins tiptoed around their words, Hades took notice of the girl as she came to the front of the procession.

Demeter spoke first, and by the time she had finished, Hades had put the pieces together. As little as he concerned himself with the other gods, he had heard some of the rumors of Demeter's treasured daughter and how fiercely she protected her from the attentions of others. She had learned something, at least, from her rendezvous with Zeus.

When her daughter came forward on her own, everything he had ever heard about her faded away. Others often spoke about how lovely, innocent, and desirable she was. They were all the usual words of flattery among gods who had nothing better to do than gossip about one another. But when he looked upon her face, and felt the vibrant glow of her presence, he was reminded of the words of the specter he'd dealt with that morning.

_Are they all like that?_ Poetry from a simple mind.

Hades' still demeanor was hardly broken by his sharp intake of breath as she began to speak. If he'd had a hundred years, in time for the next of these horrid events, he couldn't come up with the words to describe the melody of her voice. She was wholly foreign to him—like many of the other gods, true, but yet not like them at all.

She stumbled over her words to him. This was common, for any who had to speak to him for their first time or their hundredth. But it bothered him more with her, because he was listening so closely to her delicate words. He felt a subtle warmth in his head and chest, as a mortal might feel a pounding in their heart. Even the word fear sounded like something beautiful in her voice. But as it lingered in his thoughts, he again grew cold. If he knew anything about her, he knew she was not a creature that should ever know true fear.

It pained him, as much as a god could feel pain, to watch the girl retreat under the watchful eye of her mother. He had to pretend to care what the rest had to say, and so he could not keep looking for her. But his thoughts remained with her for some time.

Only two of the Olympian Twelve were left: his remaining sisters, who couldn't be more dissimilar. Hestia of home and hearth was as plain and practical as a goddess could be. Even more so than Demeter, who had at least the fire ignited by her love for her daughter. She kept her words simple: thanks for protection, fairness, and order.

Hera, as Zeus's fairly beloved Queen, had the honor of closing out the group. She wore a red gown that both complimented and outshone her husband's finery, and her dark hair was braided into a precise up-do that could be called conservative even while it drew attention to her. Her speech was carefully calculated, solemn, as though she took the ceremony even more seriously than her royal husband. But her eyes glittered with perpetual ulterior motives. Nothing she did was not a plot to meet her own ends.

Hades didn't like the way she looked at him. He never much did. But with the youthful spring in his thoughts, he had the strange feeling that he was practically transparent to Hera's scheming gaze. She always seemed to know things about the other gods that they hardly yet knew about themselves. And he wasn't sure he was ready for her to know how his thoughts were captivated by sweet Persephone.

But, though Hera lingered her gaze long and purposeful on each of them, even she soon had to step aside. Of the gods that remained, there were few whom Hades had ever concerned himself with in person. The goddess Hecate, mother of witches and guardian of crossroads, thanked him for his hospitality. She maintained a home in his realm, far distant and secluded from his own palace where he rarely saw her. Like many she only sought his attention when she needed his influence. He often forgot she was even there. But he nodded his head—graciously, he supposed—and she moved on.

There were a few other lesser gods with whom he was, in theory, familiar. Hypnos, god of sleep, and Thanatos, the personification of peaceful death, both lived within his realm as well. The latter of which was a handsome god, with a gentle disposition. He sat by the side of the old and the sickly as they passed. So close to death, and yet so far as to make all the difference. No one begrudged him, for he had no obligations to his wards once they crossed the river—once they ceased to be people, and therefore became a subject of unpleasantness to the immortals. None of them liked to concern themselves with the messy details of what death meant for those unfortunate enough to have to face it. None of them ever had to, save for Hades.

Any interaction he had with other gods lent him to dwell on these thoughts: the crucial details that made him so different from his brethren, and even those who came a hair's breadth to being on his level. But today the misconceptions and fears were not whispered in sideways gossip. They were on display for everyone to hear. It angered him, to hear them speak about death and dying and the world that he ruled as though they had even the slightest idea of what it was. But his expression revealed nothing.

By the time it was over, Hades felt more secluded from them than if they had one by one ignored that he was even there. Hermes gave another flowery speech to close the proceedings, and Zeus thanked everyone a final time and invited them all to partake in the food and wine and the celebratory portion of the day. Poseidon spoke shortly, on thanks and acceptance of their graces. Both then gave a sideways glance to their silent brother.

"I have been honored," he said to everyone. They could infer thanks or contempt however they wished.

Hades certainly had no desire to socialize now. He would have gone immediately back home if he knew he could get away with it. But, Zeus urged him to stay and enjoy himself. As soon as he found an opening in Zeus's prattling, Hades spoke as though he hadn't heard a bit of it. "That girl," he said, his eyes distant and scanning the faces around him. "Persephone."

The whisper of her name hung in the air for a moment, though Zeus seemed not to notice anything telling in the way that Hades spoke. Hades turned and looked his brother deliberately in the eyes. "Where did she go?"


	3. Chapter 3

Zeus was not one to notice the reactions of others, and if he did notice, he assumed it was a reaction to something that involved _him_. The only thing he thought of when Hades mentioned his young daughter was that his brother had noticed one of _his _children, and anything interesting about her was merely a reflection of his own glory.

"They could not have left." He assured. "I have forbidden any of them from leaving until I give them permission."

While Zeus was speaking to his brother, Demeter and Persephone were learning of this themselves. The gates would not open and Hermes was unhappily shaking his head and explaining it to them. Hermes was used to being the messenger of bad news, but he had hoped to stay in Demeter's good graces. Now he was watching the rage of a protective mother aiming in his direction. In a desperate attempt to reclaim her good opinion, he offered to ask Zeus on her behalf if he could escort them home.

Persephone remembered hearing a tale that involved a mortal girl pretending to be sick in order to leave a party early. How easily mortals could escape! They only had to pretend to be ill. Persephone had no such luck.

Hermes approached the two brothers, and he bowed gracefully before them. Zeus laughed and pulled his favorite companion into a bear hug, laughing loudly as a mortal man did in a tavern with a drinking companion. There was no need to act so commonly, but it amused Zeus to behave so with Hermes—as if they were true friends.

"Hermes, good of you to come pay your respects!"

"Naturally, great Zeus! But, I have been sent here on a brave and daring mission by seeking your council!"

Zeus laughed again, as if they were actually sharing a joke with one another. Hermes was used to this behavior, and he had long ago ceased to wonder if Zeus truly envied the behavior of mortals with their familiarity and humor. Zeus often asked Hermes to come with him in disguise among poor mortals and go into Taverns, if only to joke and play around with them. It was an entirely unique kind of game on the great god's part. Zeus actually boasted of how well he interacted with mortals during this trickery, though he knew and cared little about the well-being and suffering of mortals.

"What is your noble mission, great Messenger God?"

"I have been given the task of asking your permission to escort two beautiful goddess back to the mortal world. A daring adventure, don't you agree?"

"Very daring, considering I have insisted that everyone should stay until I declare otherwise. Who wishes to leave early?"

"The earth and spring, great Zeus. The ever protective and vigilant Demeter wishes to carry away your lovely daughter to shield her from the evils of socializing."

"Nonsense! The girl is at least a century old by now! Yes… she can't be less than a century." Zeus paused a moment, trying to figure out exactly when he had tricked Demeter, but it was hard to remember the years when he had so many years to remember. She could be as old as four centuries, but he could not keep the time straight in his mind. "It is time for her to take part in her duties and obligations as an Olympian!"

He was reciting this as if they were not his own words. Hera had indeed put the idea into his head that Persephone should not be kept away any longer. But Zeus glanced at his brother, remembering that the dark Hades had asked of her. Zeus was a god, but a simple minded god, and he quickly made a connection without another thought about it.

"Bring them here! I wish to see Persephone for myself. It has been... far too long since she has been brought before me." Zeus thought he could solve two problems at once. He could prevent making a scene with Demeter, while keeping the two goddesses at the party, and he could make his brother content. He had no affection for his brother. But, he always wanted to keep him pacified, for Hades had every reason to be cross with the two other brothers. Should he rebel, Zeus was not sure what he could do to stop him. He had the advantage in the skies, and Poseidon in the waters. But just as they ruled over the living, Hades ruled over his own world. Once in the underworld, a soul was in a completely new and complex state of being that Zeus had no power over. Better to distract Hades with his interest in the pretty daughter of his brother.

Hermes went away to fetch the two goddesses and the three of them immediately returned to join the two great gods. Demeter was not happy, but she was not afraid either, and she stood in front of her daughter protectively. Persephone was only too happy to look upon her father from over her mother's shoulder.

"It is good to see you again, great Zeus." Demeter said calmly.

"Indeed! It has been far too long!" Zeus gave a smile that let Demeter know exactly which encounter he was thinking of. But Demeter did not rage against him or shy away. She calmly stood in front of her daughter, never breaking eye contact. Zeus had once reduced her to a female helpless against his desires, but becoming a mother had given her new strength that impressed even him.

"And my beautiful daughter has indeed grown! Come, let me look at her!"

Her mother didn't move an inch, and Persephone didn't want her mother to challenge the great Zeus, so she moved from behind Demeter on her own. From all she had heard, Zeus never slept with his own children. He slept with many women, even his sisters, but bedding one of his own creation felt too great of a taboo for even the great Zeus. She was not worried about his attentions in that way. But, she knew that even though he had very little interest or contact with her before this, he would have no hesitations about claiming his right to marry her off to someone else. The attention she was getting was delicious to Zeus, and he was so greedy for it that he would be willing to claim her as his daughter if only to guide some of the attention from her to him.

He took her hands and spread them out before her, gazing up and down her as if he were evaluating a horse. Her cheeks turned as pearly pink as her dress, but she did not lower her gaze. She would be as tall and proud as her mother. She would not tremble before him and bring them both shame.

"My, you have grown to be a pretty little thing." Zeus knew no boundaries, for he was King, and he had no need for limitations.

"Don't you think Hades? Hasn't my daughter grown to be very pretty?" He turned Persephone to face Hades, which caused her heart to flutter, for she had been trying to avoid looking at the dark god. Zeus put his arm around her, as if truly claiming her as his own beloved daughter—but his grip was iron. He held her tightly in place, inviting Hades to look over her, preventing her from even taking a step back from the dark god.

Zeus did not wait for an answer. In his mind, he began turning possibilities and thinking about the outcome of each. Zeus was always looking for a way to strengthen Hades' alliance to him. He had not defeated the Titans without knowing how to take an advantage when he saw one, and he certainly knew a weakness in his power when he recognized it. He needed Hades to stay where he was and do the job that few wished to do. And he cared little for the happiness of a pretty, useless spring daughter.

"Persephone, have you seen the Heavenly Gardens yet? I doubt you have, but you really must see them. Come, I shall take you and your mother to see them. Demeter, take my arm, and I shall lead you in, for we really should catch up on lost time. Dearest Persephone, take Hades' arm, like a good girl. We shall all go see the glorious gardens I have made."

Persephone had heard about the gardens made from lightning bolts and starlight, but she had no desire to see them if it meant she had to take the arm of the dark god before her. She looked at Zeus in alarm, but there was nothing to do but obey. She moved to stand next to Hades, obediently waiting for the dark god to offer her his arm.

ooOoo

Hermes' interruption was the last thing Hades had wanted. It wasn't just a matter of getting a response from Zeus, but of not having to spend a minute more on Olympus than he strictly had to. Once it became clear that this would not be a quick message (as it really never was, once Zeus and Hermes got to enabling each other's foolishness), Hades resigned to be waiting for his answer for a while.

But he raised an eyebrow when Hermes named the subjects of his message. The unusual show of interest went unnoticed by his brother, but nevertheless somewhere in his mind Zeus was starting to put things together. When he called for the girl to be brought to them, Hades eyed him a bit suspiciously. He wanted to see the girl again, surely. But he wasn't quite sure he wanted such company, with such questionable motives, to be a part of it.

"I didn't ask for that," he said as soon as Hermes left them again. He didn't want Zeus believing this would mean a favor owed or a bargaining chip in a future conflict.

"Nonsense," his brother replied, brushing it off with a gesture of his arm. And then Hermes returned with the two goddesses before any more could be said.

While Zeus fell into his typical boasting and teasing, Hades remained still and silent. He had no fondness for Demeter and no real desire to engage in the social aspect of the greeting.

But he did watch Persephone, and decided he was thankful that she made no attempt to look at him. He hadn't gotten to really see her before. There was something intriguing about the way she held herself. She played the part of the demure maiden, as was expected of her. But, it seemed a different kind of innocence than those who prided themselves on being untouched.

Hades was accustomed to other gods feeling uneasy around him. He was not accustomed to seeing another like him, who felt so uneasy around them all.

He felt sickened, to see Zeus examining her like so much meat. And he only made it worse by asking Hades what he thought of her. His dark eyes shot a glare at his brother that went predictably unnoticed. He sighed, and lowered his gaze. But then, he made himself look at her face. He didn't move save for the subtleties of his expression, but he felt as manipulated as the girl whom Zeus held in place. He pursed his lips as he fought to come up with a satisfactory answer. He didn't like what was being done to her, and he was beginning to feel responsible.

"You are beautiful," he said finally. Perhaps there was some redemption in addressing the goddess herself, rather than her father. Hades didn't know much about giving compliments, but he knew it was unpleasant to be talked about so shamelessly.

Zeus kept talking, continuing on his own thoughts like no one else was even there. When he suggested a trip to the gardens, Hades gave no outward reaction. But he was wishing he knew a way to graciously put an end to this entire ordeal.

It took a moment for him to realize just what Zeus had suggested, or rather, ordered. The young goddess moved close to him, but for a moment more he still glared at his brother. Hades felt a tightness in his chest, and throat. When he looked at her, he felt suddenly very conscious of how horrible he must appear. The bright light of Olympus was never kind to his stark features.

"I apologize, for my brother," he told her. Quietly, so that Zeus might not hear. He held out his arm in a fluid motion. He hoped that he was being courteous.

"You'll like the gardens." He paused, and then added, "I'm honored to escort you." The words sounded wrong, in his distant voice. But the effort was genuine. He wanted her to be comfortable around him. More than he'd ever cared about such a thing before.


	4. Chapter 4

Persephone held her face in a tight mask, not daring to let any of her true emotions leak out. But she looked up at the dark god before her in gratitude. He spoke simply, but to the point, and Persephone felt that he was being honest. His direct manner was refreshing, after so many gods using pretty words instead of honesty. Her eyes dared to flicker up at his face, and although he was unsettling to her, she managed to give a small smile in reply. She cautiously took his arm, and was unprepared for what it was like to touch death.

It was cold. He might not actually be cold, but to her constant warmth, he was cold. But it was not unpleasant, for only mortals needed warmth to survive. The cold might make them uncomfortable, but Persephone knew very little of being cold, and it was fascinating. Her skin held a vibrant warmth, one that was alive with life and energy. Yet he felt like cool water or a breeze at night. It soothed the energy, the heat, the life, until she felt something like being sleepy. The calm was new, yet not disgusting or frightening like she had imagined it would be.

"I am honored as well, great Hades." She said politely. His words were reassuring, but it did not mean that she would cease her formalities. She didn't dare until she knew of his character better. She could not risk offending him. She still knew very little about him.

Besides, most men did not ask or want the opinions of females. They seemed to be pleased with quiet women, and Persephone clung to this because it gave her an excuse not to engage with young men who sought encouragement from her.

They walked behind her mother and her father, and Persephone was surprised that Hera had not made an appearance yet. Hera's husband walking with a former conquest was not something that she would approve of. What did Hera's absence mean?

Persephone realized how tiny she was compared to the great gods in her company. Zeus was massive, even though mortals believed him to be an older man. He was easily the strongest out of all of them, if immortals put any value on physical strength. But she was impossibly small next to Hades, and his darkness only dominated her small figure of light even more. She longed for her trees and meadows and forests... She vowed to run through the forest and plant new little flowers when she was free.

They were soon at the gardens, and Zeus made a spectacle of himself by boasting of his artistic eye for creating a garden completely out of lightning bolts and stars. Persephone, for all of her dislike of her father, had to admit that it was indeed beautiful. But she knew bolts of electricity that Zeus hurled from his skies to her earth very well, and she took little pleasure in them after watching forest fires and the deaths of many good trees because of them. She disliked lightning.

She tightened her grip around Hades' arm when Zeus began to demonstrate his abilities and grace while yielding the bolt. Persephone was frightened of lightning bolts, but she was more frightened by Zeus's enthusiasm for wanting to show off. She didn't trust that he would remember any boundaries while showing off of his power, and she did not want to be used as part of his spectacles again.

"I prefer real gardens...With soft things, like flowers and grass and earth." She all but whispered to Hades, sharing her opinion quietly without thinking about the consequences of sharing herself with another. She felt she owed him an explanation for clinging to him as she did.

"Do you have gardens... where you are from?" Persephone asked quietly. She wanted to make polite conversation, but she also wanted to know more about the strange God before her: One that ruled over death. What was death?

ooOoo

Feeling Persephone take his arm was a sensation he didn't know how to prepare himself for. He expected her to be warm; Hades could feel that just by standing beside her. To actually touch her, and feel the life in her skin, made him light-headed. He could feel every subtle movement she made as they walked-delicate trembles, like a butterfly's wing. And, like a butterfly, he thought that any wrong movement from him might frighten her away.

It occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so physically close to another. Hades had occasionally entertained affections for other women, but it was rare that he decided to act on them. He certainly was not his brother. In fact, his last physical contact most likely was the last time his brother had thought it would be a good idea to hug him or grasp his hand.

When Persephone called him "great Hades," he almost spoke. After the pompous ceremony they'd just had to go through, he rather didn't want to think about titles or honors right now. But, he looked at her, and how small she seemed, and knew that she was trying not to anger him. He would let her keep her formalities, if they let her feel safe.

For the rest of the walk, he was silent. And he did not look at her. But he was vitally aware of her presence with every second. When they reached the gardens and he felt the tingling of electricity in the air, he thought it could just as easily be because he was touching her.

The Heavenly Gardens were made of lightning and stars. Blinding bolts of light emerged jagged from the ground, and branched out in an imitation of trees. The energy was palpable. Zeus darted between the lightning bolts like a child, praising their wonder without really stopping to see them. Hades hardly listened to what he said. But, when his brother took to ripping them from the clouds, and demonstrating his power that made the garden so great, Hades felt Persephone cling tightly to his arm.

He felt as though one of those bolts of lightning had gone straight through him. He looked down at her-cowering but trying so hard not to let it be seen. He didn't understand why she was afraid. Before he could think of anything to say, Persephone spoke. A whisper, a gasp of air. He glanced quickly around them and saw a place for them to sit: an ornate bench on the edge of a path through the clouds.

"Come," he said, and he guided her over to take a seat. He didn't care if Zeus noticed that they were not paying attention to him.

As he sat down, her question began to take over his thoughts of concern for her. Soft things, she said. And he thought to himself that much of the Underworld was _soft_-mists and water and dreams. But what she imagined a garden to be, whether on earth or beneath it, must be nothing like what he thought of when he thought of the flowers in his realm.

Heroes, and the favored of the gods, lived in the Elysian Fields where there was light and beauty akin to what he thought she wanted to hear. But Hades spent no time there. When he looked over the heart of his realm, there was no light. But there was beauty he wished he could describe to her.

"There are flowers," he said. His eyes were distant, looking out over the heavens, but seeing the world far below the earth. "White asphodel, as far as you can see. They shimmer when they move, like water." He didn't mention the dead that rested in those meadows.

"And there are trees," he said after a pause. And he looked at her. His voice took on an edge of earnestness; he wanted her to see them. If only she could see images reflected in his eyes.

"There are no forests, but there's a marsh where the five rivers meet. And poplar trees on the shores of the Acheron." Even with so much that he wanted to say, his words were slow and deliberate. "There are tended gardens surrounding the palace, and around-" he hesitated. And for a second, he looked away from her. "Around the homes of the dead."

ooOoo

She was grateful for his understanding, and she sat down with no hesitation. Gods did not feel weak, and they did not need to sit. Yet she felt better doing so, if only because it put distance between her and her father's demonstrations.

It was all fascinating to her. She was a child that was raised in a garden. Her mother was the earth, and Demeter kept the order and function for the mortals that depended on her. But Persephone was the beauty of the forest. As a child goddess, she took flowers, which were created merely for their function, and she made them beautiful. She made their petals colorful and their fragrance sweet. When she danced in the forest, the trees moved with her, and it was she that inspired them to rise from the earth and reach for Apollo's light. Demeter made fruit grow from the earth for mortals to eat; Persephone made them taste sweet. She developed each flavor on her own, imagining what it would taste like to a tired, hungry mortal.

She could not maintain the earth as Demeter did. Demeter ordered the weather to be fair, and it obeyed her. She demanded that the plants give fruit to the mortals, and it did. She proclaimed that the earth would be warm and fertile, and it was. Nothing would obey Persephone as it did Demeter. But Persephone was not a creature that wished to rule. She was of the nature to create. Her very role as a goddess of life was not just to live, but to create new life and new beauty.

And one could not be creative if one was not curious.

Her naturally curious personality began emerging from beneath her fear. And because there was nothing false in her curiosity, she began to relax while sitting next to the death god. She listened intently, trying to picture the things he spoke of, wondering how flowers could grow without the sun. She imagined a field of bright white flowers in the land of death. Perhaps her mother was wrong to be so cautious of her father's brother. Death could not be so terrible if there were meadows of flowers.

She tried to imagine a palace, but she could not. She and her mother had no palace, nor did they wish for one. What would they do with a palace? Persephone often wondered why other gods kept such things. The only reason mortals did so was to seek shelter because they were so helpless. The idea of a home as a stationary and constant place was strange to Persephone, but she knew the feeling of being comfortable in a particular setting. She had to admit to herself that, even though she didn't understand the concept of a palace or a home, she returned to her favorite olive tree often enough if only for the familiarity. Perhaps it was similar.

Gardens around the homes of the dead... She tried to understand this. She tried to understand why the dead needed homes. It was a comforting thought though, for the mortal's own sake. The idea that they were taken care of and given a home was very appealing. She wondered about the man that she had watched die.

"I did not know the dead had homes in your realm..." She said, deep in thought. After a moment, she realized what she said, and looked down in shame, quickly clarifying in fear of offending him. "I know so little about your realm... But the flowers sound lovely. I'd like to see..."

Her voice trailed off because she realized that she did not want to finish that sentence. As much as she wished to see anything of his realm, she could never go there. Even if she was braver than any other god that had ever lived, and she dared go into the Underworld, her mother would never allow it. She didn't know much about the dark lands of death. Mortals who went in never returned. Was it the same for the gods? If she ever visited Hades (she never heard of any other gods "visiting" Hades before), could she ever come back? What if it was too horrible for her to bear, and she offended Hades so greatly that he punished her and her mother?

Persephone looked up for her mother, who was watching the two of them intently. She looked as if she wanted to break Hades away from Persephone-but Zeus kept his full attention on her, subtly forbidding her to leave him. Persephone caught her eye, and Demeter gave her such a glare of motherly _disapproval _that Persephone shrunk even further into herself. She could hear her mother's thoughts, knowing the lectures that Demeter would give her when they arrived back on earth. She would tell Persephone that it was wrong to encourage men, and she was a bad girl for encouraging the most dangerous and disliked God of Olympus. She looked up to send her mother an apologetic look, asking her to understand, which her mother would not.

_But he isn't so bad..._ Her eyes said to Demeter.

_He is the brother of your father... He is no different from any other God of Olympus... In fact, he is worse. He is God of the Underworld! He is dangerous!_ Her mother's glare to her was unforgiving, and Persephone felt terrible and wicked.

"I'm sure the gardens are lovely in your realm." She said politely. Her voice was small again, and all traces of curiosity were gone. She didn't like her mother to be angry with her, but she wasn't sure how she was supposed to be kind to one of the most powerful gods while still rebuking him to her mother's satisfaction.

ooOoo

Hades was pleased to see that Persephone was paying such attention to his words. She seemed comfortable, if only for a moment. But as soon as she let her thoughts get away from her, the tenseness between them began to return. Hades shook his head. She didn't understand that the homes of the dead were not quite like how they had enjoyed homes in life. They were only shadows. Being not only immortal, but a child of the wild forest, he wasn't sure she could ever understand his realm.

"It's alright," he said simply. He didn't want her to think she had offended him. She seemed so worried. Hades looked at her-eyes downturned, her hair falling over her shoulders-and he wanted to reach out. He wanted to comfort her… He wanted to touch her again.

Then she spoke, and she almost admitted that she wanted to see the things he'd tried in vain to describe. Hades sat up a little straighter. His muscles tensed with the struggle of wanting to say something, but not quite knowing what.

Persephone looked to her mother, and his eyes followed hers.

Demeter had never been a friend to him; but then, neither had many. The look in her eyes was one only a mother could give. Hades was reminded of Persephone's many would-be suitors, always complaining about her relentless protector.

Persephone grew frail under that watchful eye; he could see that clearly. She tried to keep speaking, but it wasn't the same.

Hades reached out his hand. His fingers touched lightly under her chin, and he guided her to look at his face. His mouth opened, but it felt like an eternity later that he managed to speak.

"You will see them," he said. And his usually so carefully-planned words held a touch of something else at the end of them. A trailing whisper of a word he did not say. Soon or Someday; he couldn't find it in him to choose.


	5. Chapter 5

His touch should have startled her, but it was like blowing cold air against a flame. She cooled with his touch, and even under her mother's glare, she couldn't help but calming against the cold. Her entire body seemed to cool while waiting for him to speak, as if all of her warmth was being absorbed by him. She didn't mind it at all.

Her large golden brown eyes blinked in reply to his statement, for she had no idea what he meant. Perhaps he was merely saying this as mortals promised their children...Words to sooth a child into trustful silence. She would never see those lands. It was not possible. She had no death to fear, so she would never be one of his lost souls. Olympian gods were at risk in his kingdom. She wasn't sure how, or what exactly they had to fear, for their immortal blood made gods resistant to all of the things that mortals feared. But she knew that her mother would never let her go there, and that was enough.

"Persephone!"

Her head jumped out of his hands towards her mother, and she stood obediently.

"It is time to leave." Demeter used a voice that let everyone know that she would not tolerate being here anymore, and even Zeus knew that arguing was pointless.

Persephone nodded, and she looked to Hades and gave a curtsy. But she turned her eyes up to meet his and gave a shy smile.

"I'm happy to have met you, great Hades. Thank you for your company. And thank you for telling me about your gardens."

She had no bravery left for more, as her mother became angrier with each word she spoke. She went to her mother quickly, who put an arm around her and led her away. The two were followed by Hermes, who obviously was happy to finally be the relief to Demeter's eagerness to leave.

Zeus watched them leave and then approached Hades, mischief in his eyes.

ooOoo

When Demeter's voice cried out at them, Hades quickly pulled back his hand. Persephone was already practically on her feet. He stood as well, slowly, glaring at Demeter with all of the contempt that she imagined the dark god to have.

But his face softened, when Persephone gave her sweet farewell. "Thank you," he said. He bowed his head, and added "It was a pleasure."

He looked at Demeter again, and gave her a slight nod as well. But he said nothing. And as soon as she had her daughter back in her arms, Hades looked away. He didn't need to be looking at Persephone to see her well enough in his mind. And that image needn't be tainted by the grasp of her mother.

When Zeus approached him, Hades was looking back at the gardens. But he wasn't really looking; he was making a decision. Even as his brother spoke, he didn't turn to face him—not right away. Hades let him talk, and believe himself subtle and clever. He waited.

"She has grown quite beautifully, has she not? Her mother has done an excellent job. Demeter is against letting her marry, unfortunately. It isn't for the lack of suitors, I assure you."

Zeus paused, letting that little piece of information sink in.

"She would make an excellent wife, though. She obeys her mother perfectly, and I'm sure she would obey her husband as well. She would make the man the envy of all lucky enough to behold her."

Zeus turned his eyes from the departing goddesses back to his lightning garden, beholding his own creation to remind himself of his own glory.

"It really isn't right to have a girl so lovely and deprive her of the honor of being a wife. I could step in on her behalf, as her father, but I fear that my own husbandly obligations prevent me from doing so. But, I would not object to the right... offer."

He was always after words. He held ceremonies to hear words of his own glory. And that is all he wanted now. He wanted words of alliances and agreements. He was not looking for flattery, for he knew that he would never get it from certain gods. But an agreement—a promise that would keep his mind at ease that all would remain the same—would be enough.

"You know all I have to offer," Hades stated. He looked up at Zeus, and for once his brother kept quiet. They stared at each other as Hades contemplated his next move, a knowing smile playing on Zeus' lips.

"I want her," he said. Implied was the knowledge that he could take her, blessing or no. But he continued. "I do know about the others. And I know that they were all met with her mother's disapproval." He paused, lending weight to what he would say next. "None of them thought to come to you."

"True," Zeus responded, after a moment. "You would think Hermes, at least… ah, but the messenger has long given up thinking he had a chance. Ares, though," Zeus laughed. "My boy's a fighter."

"As would be the God of War," Hades said. His voice was flat; he was not playing games.

"Right, of course." Zeus was grinning. He had no intention of giving Ares or any of her other young suitors more reason to flaunt themselves around Olympus. But, he had to see what his brother would say. "So tell me," he finally got down to it, "What makes you the better suitor?"

Hades' eyes were steel; he didn't blink. "It won't affect your answer."

"Won't it?"

"Brother," Hades said slowly. He braced himself for the most loyalty Zeus was ever likely to get from him. "You are the king of the gods. You saved the first of us from our father titan's wrath. No one will challenge your decision."

Pride swelled in Zeus's eyes. But, he paused, testing the answer that they both knew was coming. Before he could speak, however, there was an interruption.

"There you are, my dear husband!" So came a voice that spoke the words of a dear wife, but held all of the hidden contempt of an old nemesis. The goddess Hera walked up the path towards them, each step sounding with purpose, though she put great effort into not appearing to be in a hurry.

Hades' face fell. Silently, he cursed the gods (yes, all of them) for the unwelcome distraction. He wondered what misguided providence had kept her at bay until after Demeter's departure. If only such a confrontation could have kept them both out of his way.

ooOoo

Zeus cringed as she approached. Yet, he turned to her with a look of pleasure, as if all of his problems were solved by the very presence of his spouse.

"My dearest Hera, how are you, my darling one?"

She walked to his side, yet there was no attempt on either part to touch the other. Hera's eyes fell upon Hades as she spoke, sparkling with curiosity.

"I am worried about my dear husband and my dear brother. What are the two of you talking about so intently?"

"Ah, nothing to worry about," said Zeus. He took no notice of the look on her face. "We are just discussing family matters."

"Oh?"

Zeus, of course, could not pass up the opportunity to discuss his affairs. He loved discussing how powerful he was, but to no other being more so than his wife. For all of his cheating and philandering about, he loved impressing the woman that he had married.

"Yes, my dear. It seems our brother has set his sights on my young Persephone."

"Oh, really? My, that is interesting..." She turned slowly to face her husband, the devious smile on her lips threatening to get away from her. "She will be a very happy woman, I'm sure."

"Ah, that is the problem, my dear. She is not at liberty, not with her mother preventing her from marrying."

"Indeed."

"But I have decided not to stand in the way of my brother's happiness. I give you my blessing, Brother. I will not interfere." Zeus gave Hades a significant look, before turning back to his wife. "Come, my dear, shall we go back to the others? I suppose it was rude for me to leave for so long."

"Yes, my dear, they are all wondering where you have gone. That is why I came looking for you. But, let me talk to Hades first," She turned her eyes to Hades, her eyes glinting with catlike amusement, "to offer my congratulations in private."

Zeus didn't believe his wife, but he did not care enough to argue. He nodded and left, believing that his presence was truly missed. He bowed to both and left, leaving Hera to turn to Hades with falsely sweet eyes.

"I meant what I said. Persephone will be very happy. But it is too bad about how pigheaded her mother can be. She is determined to keep that poor girl husbandless."

She casually walked over to the bench and sat down where Persephone had been sitting. She patted the seat next to her, asking him to sit with her, as if they were friends and having an intimate conversation.

Hades watched her, but he made no immediate attempt to move. "I can take care of my own affairs, thank you."

"You know, I did not wish to marry Zeus at first, if you remember." She continued talking as though he hadn't said anything, and refusal of the seat had meant nothing.

"So, Zeus took matters into his own hands." The goddess was clever enough not to let a grimace shine through her friendly facade. She gave Hades a look. "And once he had me, he decided to keep me. He made me Queen. And I grew to love my position."

Hades walked closer to her, but not to sit. He looked down on her. "What," he spat the word, "does this have to do me?" It had only taken him that one short meeting to know with all certainty that Persephone wanted to get away from her mother. He believed she would welcome his proposal; the goal of Hera's interference was not clear to him.

She paused, turning her eyes to admire the powerful electricity of the garden before her. Without looking away, she continued, "Demeter will never relent. You have the power to vanquish her, but the battle would defeat itself. A mother of the earth, slain protecting her child from ruination... Poor Persephone would never recover from such a tragedy."

She gave a dramatic sigh, pretending to think about the fate of young Persephone. The spring Goddess had her fate planned out by a father who only wanted what she could gain for him and a vindictive Queen who hoped to milk the innocent girl for all of the misery she could get from her. Persephone was one that had no desire for power, and no desire for harm or greed. Yet, she was being tossed about as if she were gold or jewels. And her mother, with all of her power, was far too blinded by determination to see that she could not protect Persephone forever.

"And her mother would never let her go willingly. Even with an order from my husband, and truthfully, that might only make her worse. So perhaps you should take an example from your brother," she said slowly. "His method obviously worked... And a mother's rights are nothing compaired to a husband's. She would have no right to claim her away once Persephone is no longer a daughter, but a wife."

Hades could see the truth in her words, but he didn't trust the mouth that they came from. Hera never spoke of Persephone's will or desire, because she was irrelevant. Olympians only knew power, and Persephone had none. Demeter had power, so to Hera and Zeus, Demeter was the only concern in the matter. But before he could speak, Hera turned back to Hades, as if remembering something important.

"And she will learn to be happy. How could one not be happy as Queen?" Hera laughed within herself. Queen of the Damned. Even Hera would pass up the power that came with that title. She was thrilled. One of Zeus's bastard immortal children forced to live in the Underworld for the rest of eternity. Especially a fitting punishment for the spring Goddess, Hera enjoyed the thought of Persephone never seeing daylight or her mother ever again.

But though Hades knew that his realm would be difficult to adjust to, he did not see in it the condemnation that Hera did. And despite himself, her words were making sense.

"She will be happy," he said, as though that were enough to defy whatever self-serving ends she saw in this. "And we are done here."

Hades turned away from her, and with the sweep of his black robes he was gone before she could say another word. One very good thing about being King of the Underworld: he never had to worry that his fellow gods would follow him if he left them unexpectedly.


	6. Chapter 6

Her mother didn't speak to her on the way back to earth, and Persephone knew that once they were alone, she would receive a fierce reprimand. Her mother didn't disappoint, and once they were in private, she raged for at least an hour on how Persephone was very bad for encouraging the attentions of the male gods at the party. In particular, Demeter was extremely disturbed that her daughter "lacked in intelligence and judgment" for allowing the darkest god out of all of them to think he had any right to be at liberty to touch her.

"You never obey me! I know these gods...You do not! You believe it is all a game! Every last one of them will take you and cast you aside, don't you understand that?"

"He was kind... that was all. He was only being kind." Persephone said in a small voice. Demeter looked at her in shock, for Persephone had never dared talk back to her mother. But she remembered how gentle he had been with her, how unexpectedly patient, and she felt that in this one particular instance, her mother was misjudging him.

Demeter unleashed a fury that silenced Persephone for the rest of the night, proclaiming that Hades was only trying to claim her, just as the other gods wanted to. Demeter called her daughter a foolish girl that lacked in modesty and humility for believing she knew better than her mother, and Persephone hung her head in shame.

When Demeter finally dismissed her, Persephone fled with glittering tears in her eyes. She fled into her forest, running and running, her tears flowing and dark blue flowers growing where the droplets fell to the earth. She shed her gold jewelry, dropping it to the ground, and it melted away, turning into deep golden flowered plants. Her pink garments were shed immediately, and dropped for the wind to carry away, dissolving into the sweet fragrance of floral springtime. Her hair was wild, her feet were bare, and she ran in nothing but her tight dress made of cotton and grass fibers. She quickened her pace and ran with a fury of one longing to escape and be free.

ooOoo

Storming through his palace halls, Hades raised a silencing hand to any who tried to approach him with duties or concerns. His subordinates could handle things themselves for just a little longer. He wasn't ready to let the events of the past day be put to the back of his mind.

In a room off his private chambers, there was a stone basin of water. The door closed with a heavy sigh behind him, and Hades was alone. There was nothing else in the room but the water, and no light. But as the darkness deepened, the water gave off its own subtle luminescence that served its purpose well enough.

The water came from the river Cocytus. It was where the forgotten dead, who could not pay for their crossing or could not make themselves to get in the boat, wandered endlessly along frozen shores. The edges of the basin even had a touch of frost on them to testify to the water's origins. Where the dead could not forget, the water's surface taunted them with visions of what they left behind. With the power of a god, it could show anything he desired to see.

Hades peered into the water, and for a moment saw only his reflection of ghostly white. He touched a finger to the center. Ripples pulsating with their own cold blue light spread outward. But as they cleared, the reflection remained distorted. "Let me see her," he whispered. His yearning was all the command that the water needed.

ooOoo

The moon comforted her in its light. Artemis had sent the moon to illuminate her, knowing that she would be upset, but her friend was still at the meeting with Zeus, and she could offer no personal comfort. But Persephone wanted to be alone.

She ran all over the wilderness, and she could have kept running for all eternity, yet running held nothing for her. She was never going to release any energy this way; there would never be a sense of sweet exhaustion that mortals delighted in. And she could not escape anything by running over the earth. Her mother could follow her anywhere she went, for the earth was her domain.

She was frightened. She was frightened to be without her mother during the daylight, when Apollo lingered in the sky to watch when she was alone. She was frightened to be among the mortals, when Ares lingered around the constantly battling warriors of the land. Even Hermes would look for her in his chariot, and she knew that Zeus would never take action against him, even if he harmed his own daughter.

When she realized the futility of running, she stopped in the middle of the field, looking up at the moon. Her long hair moved without wind, for life was so much a part of her that even the strands of her hair were too alive to hold still. The moon complimented her pearl-like skin more than the sun ever could, and it was cool and sweet against her skin. From the tears still falling down her sweet little face, flowers grew and grew, until there was a large circle of knee-high flowers surrounding her. She wanted to touch them. But, her mother was the earth, and she didn't want to be so close to it. A plant began sprouting beneath her, where a small seed had felt the pain in the tears that nourished the earth, and the tiny thing offered its comfort. Persephone's power reached out to it, and it grew out of the ground—growing thicker and thicker, taller and taller. It swooped her up in its branches and carried her with it, all the way to the sky, growing taller and thicker by each second, until Persephone felt comforted by the distance between her and the earth. The tree cradled her in its branches, and the leaves let just enough moonlight trickle in for her to feel safe. It held her in a thick cocoon of branches and leaves, weaving itself around her as if it could really protect her from all that saddened her. It could not protect her, but the essence of the tree was kind and friendly, and she was grateful for it.

"I wonder if this is what home feels like..." She said softly to the tree.

ooOoo

The dark god watched Persephone from his secluded space. He had thought that her dear forest would be as comforting to her as his realm was to him—a place where they could be who they are. But on her mother's earth, under her father's sky, there was no home for her.

Hades feared he was just as guilty as the rest of them. The tree that grew around her did not have to protect her from his sight, but he let it. Hades drew his hand across the water and let the image fade back into his cold reflection. But he remained in the dark, thinking over all that he had seen.

In her world, flowers burst forth at her slightest gesture. Perhaps in his world, they still could. Hades wondered if they would grow the same—if it would feel the same, to her. Such small things for him to worry about, flowers. But they would be important to her.

When Hades left the chamber, he did so merely because it was the next step to take, and not because he had any notion of retrieving his helm. But that is where he went. It was the sole thing that had any value to him, in a room full of treasures and offerings that propriety deemed he hold onto. The door was locked only as an afterthought, for no one with ill intentions could get themselves so deep into his palace. But Hades held the only key: a bone carving no larger than his finger.

The helm was simple in appearance: silver with a mirror's shine, unbroken by undue embellishments. It covered much of his face, but for its purpose that was an unnecessary disguise. The Helmet of Darkness was his gift from the cyclopes, when his brothers were presented with Poseidon's trident and Zeus' lightning bolts. Even before they drew lots for their shares of the world, his brothers were better suited to battle, and Hades better suited to being unseen.

Hades lifted the helmet from its pedestal, and tucked it firmly under his arm. He got the notion then to change out of the shadow black he wore, and instead dressed himself in a matching gown of grey and silver. For the lightness of it and the pale aura of his skin and hair, he appeared like a creature made of moonlight. Hades put on the helmet, and disappeared to the mortal world. He had only to appear in the right forest, and follow the trail of tear-grown flowers to find her.

As he approached Persephone's tree, the helmet allowed him seclusion in invisibility, even from the sensitivities of gods. He swore to himself that he was not there to disturb her. He only wanted to be there. But he let himself get closer to the tree than he had intended, and peered up into its branches where she rested.

ooOoo

She could feel the life in creatures. It was like a flavor in the air, and she could sense when any creature was around her. But death was not living, and she could not feel it—nor could she see through the magic of the Helmet of Invisibility. She was curled into her tree cradle, feeling no need for a blanket or any other covering, as mortals who were raised to need such things for comfort. But she stroked the tree beneath her, as one stroked a pet, softly whispering words of gratitude and affection.

"I've never had a friend before... Not really. Artemis is my friend sometimes. But I cannot truly talk to her. She won't be my friend if I ever married. And, I don't think I'd like to be a wife... I don't always like being a daughter." Another tear slipped out of her eye, falling to the bark and immediately absorbed. She had never met a happy wife among the Olympians. Hera was one of the most hateful women she had ever met, Aphrodite was never faithful for a single day of her marriage, and the rest of the females resolved never to marry. She knew that wives were expected to obey their husbands just as daughters obeyed their mothers... She would spend the rest of eternity obeying others.

"I want... I want..." More tears began falling from her eyes, all falling on the tree. No one had ever asked her that question before. No one ever asked her what she wanted. And even though she was asking herself, she couldn't answer it out loud. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be able to live in her meadows and gardens and fields without fear. She wanted...

"...to be free."

She rolled on her back, letting tears fall down her face without paying any mind to them. They trickled down to her tree, which absorbed them all. Even her sadness was nourishment for others. The earth and sky would devour the life she gave, leaving her hollow and empty. She looked at the moon through the branches, but she could not find any comfort in the moon's empty light.

She was tired of the earth and sky, but there was nothing else for her. She loved her mother, honestly, but she truly wished that Demeter loved her a little less.

ooOoo

Hades didn't often use his helmet for such spying. It had been essential in the war with the Titans, and many battles thereafter; it had been variously coveted by gods and heroes who sometimes borrowed or attempted to steal it. But for such a personal use, he'd not often considered it. Among mortals, such a thing wasn't needed to fool their senses. And among gods, he rarely cared what they wouldn't say to his face. Often, he already knew.

But when he heard Persephone crying, he felt wrong. Hades leaned his back up against the tree and suppressed a breath. What was the good of being here, if he was merely here for himself, and not for her?

He heard her say that she did not want to be a wife, and whatever words of comfort he might have wanted to offer her were caught in his throat. But she continued and lamented all that he knew had hurt her. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter; she wanted to be free. He heard, that she wanted to get away.

"Where will you go?" He asked, forgetting himself. And the helmet did more than hide him from sight—his voice echoed from all directions so that he could not even be located by sound. He said again, "Where will you go, to be free?" Softer, hoping he hadn't frightened her.

ooOoo

The voice stopped her tears, and she immediately sat up, her long hair falling forward over her face. She crouched up to her dainty feet, as if she would spring up at any moment and flee, but she hesitated. She couldn't see anyone around her, but what was more frightening was that she couldn't _feel_ anyone. Nothing living could speak as an immortal could. She sat, crouching on her toes and fingers, her long hair flowing and pooling around her pixie form. Her golden eyes darted around her, searching for someone, but she couldn't tell where the voice had come from.

"Who's there?" She asked softly. "Where are you?"

Her mind reflected on his questions and her jaw clenched in anger. She was mild and easy-mannered by nature, but she did have a temper. Just as spring can be deceptively sweet—with lingering hints of winter, or heat foreshadowing the summer—she could have a temper if provoked. She felt vulnerable and uncomfortable, but the day had drained her beyond patience. She was tired of fear and tired of being constantly at the mercy of others.

"How dare you eavesdrop on me! I was not speaking to you. It is of no business of yours what I want or how I feel." The anger in her eyes was softened by the lingering tears on her cheeks. She felt uneasy by whoever was near her. But with every breath she took, the flash of anger softened as well, and her mind regained its power over her fear. If this stranger planned to take her, just as her mother warned that males would (for the voice was undeniably _male)_, he would have done so while she was lying in a more vulnerable position. He was invading her privacy, of course, but he definitely did not pose the same threat that Persephone's mother had warned her of... At least, that was her impression thus far.

"Show yourself..." Her voice had lost the fury from before, and although her body was still crouched as if she could flee at any moment, she lost the tension from earlier. She was still on her guard, but her curiosity and calm nature was resuming in place of fear. "Please. You sound... familiar."


	7. Chapter 7

Though her voice was sweet and soft, he could hear the anger growing beneath it. She didn't realize who he was. For a moment, it occurred to him that he could leave, and she never would know. But the dark god remained, unable to will himself to move. Even when she asked for him to show himself, and he feared that he would ruin everything if he let her know who had disturbed her, he could not retreat.

Then she remembered his voice. Not enough that the decision was not still in his hands, but she spoke so gently. He looked up in the branches and saw traces of tears still on her face, glistening in the moonlight.

Hades stepped away from the trunk of the tree, where they could face each other more fully. He lifted the silver helm from his head, and spoke clearly to draw her attention.

"Forgive me, Persephone."

As soon as he said the words, he felt that he shouldn't have. Not that he shouldn't have asked forgiveness, but that he shouldn't have come, and he shouldn't have let himself be known. He closed his eyes, and bowed his head. But it was difficult to look humble in the regal gown of silver he had worn, still insisting to himself that he had not intended to be seen.

"I thought," he began, pausing to look up at her as he searched for the correct words, "that you might... want someone to talk to."

ooOoo

She waited for a few moments, expecting something to happen. She expected a stranger to reveal themselves, but she did not expect to see the Great Hades, one of the Three, to appear before her. Then she realized why she couldn't feel him near her. Persephone could feel everything, even immortal creatures, but she could not feel him. He was cloaked in something otherworldly. She wanted to call it _death,_ but he was still clearly before her, seemingly alive.

When her surprise wore off, she realized whom she was speaking to, and whom she had spoken to in an extremely disrespectful manor. She was horrified into silence, although her mind screamed for her to beg for forgiveness and understanding. She stared at him as he closed his eyes and lowered his head—like the way she bowed to him—and he, a brother of the Three, explained himself to her. The Lord of the Underworld, one of the most feared beings in the universe, _explained _himself to a barely significant spring goddess.

The strangeness of it all stunned her into further silence, but at least she was able to move about. She moved out of her cocoon onto a lower branch, climbing the tree as gracefully as a cat. She paused, looking at him with caution, before lowering herself to sit on the branch, her legs dangling in front of her. Her little dress knew its duty of shielding her, and the natural living material moved with her, covering her, and she was able to move as freely as she wished without any worries of modesty.

She sat looking at him, unsure of what she should be doing or saying to a being as powerful and great as Hades, especially in response to his concern. The fact that he had any concern for her at all was strange enough.

"I did want someone to talk to, but..." Her hair caught with the wind, blowing all around her, passed her hanging legs. It curled and danced with the wind, moving about on its own. "I've never confided in anyone before, and I'm not sure what to say."

She confessed this easily, her shock at speaking to Hades preventing her from really thinking through her words before she spoke.

"How did you find me?" _Why, why, why_. She wanted to ask _why_ he cared, why he wanted to talk to her, why he followed after her after their small conversation. "And..." She couldn't bring herself to question a being she had been raised to fear.

ooOoo

While Persephone stared at him in stunned silence, the dark god's face remained stoic. He lifted his head but his eyes did not meet hers. Hades tightened his grip on the helmet, so that if he weren't already so pale, his fingers would be turning white. He wanted to be at ease with her—and for her to feel the same—but all she saw was the great one, the dark one, the unyielding.

Yet when she spoke, it came easier than he expected. Neither of them quite knew what they were doing, it seemed, and perhaps the strangeness of it was what kept it working. He gave a small smile, barely noticeable, when she admitted to not knowing how to confide. And so the god with a heart of cold stone had asked her to share her feelings. He didn't know what to say.

It was worse, when she asked him her question. Even this one, which she deemed safer than the one she was afraid to say. Hades looked at her, and then his gaze fell down to the tree, and to a patch of flowers on the ground. He had already admitted to eavesdropping. But dare he say how long he'd been spying?

He looked up at her again, his eyes trailing over her before holding her gaze. Hades looked at her with a longing that he could not reign in. He did not mean to appear lustful, but he wanted to appreciate the way she looked, with the grace and the comfort of being in her own element. And to see the question lingering in her eyes, he knew he had to say something.

"I don't often like to watch the world of the living," he said. "But, there are ways that I can, when I have reason to." He paused. And, though perhaps it was true that the King of the Underworld need not explain himself to anyone, he felt he owed her something more. "You intrigue me, Persephone.

ooOoo

Persephone knew what lustful looks meant, for she had seen enough of them directed at her. But the look that he gave her was different. The fire that she was used to seeing was missing. It was a look of hunger, and there was no mistaking that, but it was also something more. It was a look that absorbed her, like plants absorbing the sun's warmth. She wasn't sure that the look wasn't dangerous, but it was all so strange and unexpected, that she couldn't spare the extra energy trying to interpret a _look_.

She didn't know that he had the power to look upon the living, but she knew so little about him that it didn't surprise her. There were ways for immortals to call upon images of the past and present, even the future. She wanted to ask why he did not look upon the living often, but she felt as if she knew. He was alone at the ceremony, as he was alone now. In all that she had heard about the God of the Underworld, she had never heard of any companions or beloved family. Perhaps he did not look upon the living because he had no one to look for. But, he watched her... And she found that she didn't mind it.

She didn't say anything immediately after his explanation. She was not sure how she felt about it, or if she had to feel anything at all. But, it was interesting. He was intrigued by her, curious of her. It was something she understood. She was surprised to learn that someone as powerful and regarded as Hades could be curious about a spring goddess.

Persephone was not powerless by any stretch of the imagination. Once the mortal world grew accustomed to the spring, in all of its beauty, mortals became obsessed with it. Goodness and beauty became synonyms with the nature of spring. It inspired people in passion and creativity. The immortals constantly took her influence for granted, but it was because of her own personality. It wasn't in her nature to use her powers for her own gain, which was unusual for the Olympians.

So, for him to be curious of her was strange. No one had ever expressed interest in her before, as if she were a complex and strange creature. More than beauty, more than feminine vulnerability, he found her interesting. Persephone did not feel particularly brilliant or knowledgeable, but there was something he found interesting about her.

"I understand." She did. She found him and his strange domain fascinating. "I found what you said, at the ceremony..." she looked down, remembering the embarrassing circumstances of their meeting, "When you told me about the gardens around your castle."

They couldn't have been more different. But if that was the only reason why he found her interesting, she didn't mind. In fact, she felt strangely comfortable with him, even with her mother's words in her head. She was in her element, held by a caring tree, surrounded by moonlight from an absent friend, completely without her _mother_.

Her eyes shifted away from his to look upon a branch near him. With only a silent word of will from her, she crafted a flower in her mind and made it to grow out of the tree. It was mostly white, with large pointed petals, but there was a small row of inner petals of bright pink. There were flecks of gold in the center, where the pollen gave a sweet floral scent that reminded one of springtime. It grew very quickly, as Persephone wished it to, and she smiled at the finished product of her power.

"I remember what you told me about your flowers. This one is one of mine. It's new." She meant what she said when she said that she understood his curiosity. She was curious by nature, but curiosity always inspired creativity, as this flower was inspired by her interactions with him. "This one is a gift."

As she spoke, more flowers of the same kind sprang forth from the tree, growing at an alarming rate. The flowers grew from the branches, and they only stopped when the two were surrounded by flowers, the floral scent of spring floating in the breeze. These flowers were for the tree, which would continue to bloom and be loved by mortals for its beauty. But the first flower was for him to take, if he wished it.

"Perhaps one day, you can give me one of your flowers."

ooOoo

The more time they spent together, it seemed, the more comfortable both of them were feeling. Persephone especially seemed to be growing less guarded around him. But Hades still felt something restraining him—a constant reminder that he had to do everything precisely right.

He nodded gratefully at her understanding, but he did not know what more to do. He felt as though he had no right to thank her for her interest in the flowers of his realm, for she didn't know anything except for his own words. When she pictured them, did she see the spirits of the dead, or the cold mists that hid the sky? If she knew just how different it was, and how dark, would she still find his world so fascinating?

Hades was still lost in his own thoughts when she produced the first flower from the tree, and he stared at it for a moment as though not quite certain what he was looking at. He had told her of white flowers, and thus she created one as only a spring goddess could, with accents of gold and pretty pink and the sweet aroma of life. He almost sighed at the sight of it. But then, she called it a gift. And he managed to smile.

It was a small smile, but it was there, and, he nodded his appreciation at her kind thought. "Thank you," he told her, although he didn't make a move to take it. "But I think it would be happier with you, than with me."

Hades knew nothing of the happiness of flowers, but it seemed a nice thing to say. And he would feel wrong, plucking it from where it grew. He spent enough time with the dead.

No sooner had he spoken than the tree was suddenly sprouting all over with duplicates of the new flower. The unexpectedness of it made him take a step away, but they grew so quickly that they became still before he knew how else to react. Surrounded by white petals, and the smell of spring, Hades looked to the spring goddess in her tree.

This was her element; it was how she expressed herself. And Hades was speechless at the sight of it. But, in that moment he saw her as beautiful and as delicate as the flowers that she tended.

"I've never seen such..." his mouth hung slightly ajar as he swept his gaze across the flowers. "Life."

He gradually regained himself, and his face grew solemn despite the breathlessness he still felt inside. She asked again about the flowers in his realm. His eyes grew distant, slowly clouded by the same thoughts she'd raised before.

"Perhaps," he offered her. A moment later, he made a slight noise that may have been a laugh. "I did say you would see them," he admitted. And for all his doubts, he did want her to. He wanted her to see everything. Hera had tried to convince him that she would grow to appreciate life as a queen. But would she love him, and his dark realm?

He looked at her with so many questions in his dark eyes. But, he could only pick one to start, and dared not frighten her away just as she seemed so content to be in his presence. Hades approached the trunk of the tree and placed his hand against it. He looked up at Persephone, sitting on her throne of flowered branches. He felt the whole world around them grow silent at the eve of his words.

"May I join you?"

ooOoo

She smiled even though he rejected her gift. It might have upset one of the other goddesses, who took offense to anything that conflicted with their expectations with how they should be adored. Persephone did not think of it as a rejection of a gift, but a wise choice to let it be in peace. The flower might keep him company for a few days, and smell sweetly a little longer than that, but it was better for the flower to stay connected to the tree. She was pleased that he would think of the well-being of something so tiny and insignificant.

She did not mean to amaze him, and it wasn't her intent to impress him. It was an expression of herself, as one did with words or pictures. She was glad that he thought it beautiful, for being unimpressed or disgusted would have stung her more than anything he could ever say to her.

Persephone remembered that he did say that she would see his realm, in the most peculiar tone. She didn't get to think about it before, for her mother had practically pounced on her when he had touched her face. She wondered if it was possible for her to merely visit him in his world. She doubted it, but if it were possible, she wanted to go to his realm without harm. She would gladly satisfy her curiosity.

He approached her, and she waited without moving to hear what he wanted. She cautiously paused to think about it, hearing her mother's words demand that she reject him and keep her distance. But her mind reasoned that he had been perfectly respectful of her so far. And, if he did want something more intimate from her, he had the power to take it from her without her permission whether he was sitting next to her or chasing her on foot.

She nodded to him. "If you would like to."


	8. Chapter 8

Hades waited patiently while she considered her answer. And when she gave him one, he simply smiled, and nodded his head in thanks. He gave no outward indication of the way he suddenly felt so light, at the sound of those words. He pulled himself up into the branches, and his senses were overcome with the scent of flowers, but he knew it was the sight and the closeness of the flowers' goddess that truly affected him so.

Persephone had the advantage of a petite form and a tree that had grown to her will; Hades did not. He had to be careful to bend his head under branches and shift his weight where he could sit comfortably, near to her. He kept a tight grip on his helmet, which kept threatening to fall. But as soon as he felt settled, he set it safely upon the widest part of the branch against the trunk of the tree. When he looked again at Persephone, he realized he must look like a clumsy fool in the eyes of one who made her very home in the trees.

In the company of any other, that thought may have hurt his pride. And maybe it was the foreign scent of the flowers that made him feel almost lightheaded. But he smiled at her, and he even laughed. His mouth hung open for a moment, at a loss for words.

"I don't do much climbing." He sighed, but the shadow of the smile remained on his face. Now that he was there with her, Hades found that there was nothing he felt he needed to say. He just wanted to look at her. And be near to her. Even in the chill of the night, he could feel the calming warmth that emanated from her.

His hand slowly reached out, where she rested her own upon the tree branch, and he touched his fingers to hers like testing the temperature of water.

ooOoo

Watching him try and climb her tree made her realize that he really was nothing like what she expected from her mother's stories. He could have used his power to get into the tree in a more graceful manner. Even the weakest nymph could use their powers to float onto a tree branch, although a nymph would be extremely tired afterwards. But he climbed into the tree, as a mortal would, to mimic the way she had moved. He was clumsy indeed, but it impressed her more than any words ever could. Most Gods did their best to look flawless and appear perfect, even in the simplest tasks. But letting himself look clumsy, admitting to her that she was superior in something (even in something as simple as climbing a tree), was impressive.

She found herself relaxing and giggling with him, pulling her leg up to wrap her arm around it. She smiled at him without hesitation or caution, finding herself warming even more to his laughter.

"I see that... But I'm glad you're here anyway." She smiled brighter, genuine in her words and her affectionate teasing. He was just looking at her, and she didn't mind. She found herself studying him in return, thinking about how he was so much softer than his appearance at lead her to believe at their first meeting. His touch, she remembered, was cool and calming, something she had never felt before. Cold air and cold water warmed around her, for her life and warmth changed everything she came into contact with... Expect for him.

While thinking about his touch, he moved to put his hand on hers, and she shivered as the warmth left her hand. She could feel her warmth being absorbed by him, but she didn't mind at all. She had never been sleepy before, and slept only when she chose to do so, but she imagined that this is what she was missing for being immortal. Perhaps this is what mortals felt when they went to sleep... The draining of all of their distracting energy until their minds cooled and they drifted away. Her energy, her life, never lessened. She was constantly buzzing and vibrating with life, but she could not use any of it up. It didn't matter how long she ran, how many hours she spent climbing, her energy never faltered. But touching him... It cooled. She felt a strange relief that she didn't know she was missing, and she let out a deep sigh.

"Your touch is so cold. I like it. I've never felt cold before. It's strange... but nice." She moved to hold his hand in hers, moving both hands to hold his. She touched his palm with her fingertips, examining his cold skin with unavoidable curiosity. But the more she touched his skin, the more she felt soothed, until even her curiosity was muted. With a large sigh, she lifted his hand up and rested her cheek in his hand, feeling the cold sensation against her cheek. Resting her head in his hand was an extremely unique experience, and she could feel her mind quieting until she closed her eyes to entire the sensation of being _still_ for the first time in her life.

ooOoo

She was making it easy for him, with her encouraging laughter and how she slowly made him forget that he was someone to be feared. Power was nice, but it was also a nice thing to be forgotten.

Yet there was still a part of him that felt strange, being there. He felt tense, and he felt like any wrong move could undo all the progress they had made. Hades had always been a god of few words-calm and calculating in every syllable, no wasted efforts. But with her, that meant more than just avoiding useless words and frivolities. Every slightest action was cause for questioning. Everything had to be perfect, for her.

He thought too long about wanting to touch her. He wanted it so badly. Even (or perhaps especially) for a god of death, there was something alluring about the warmth that she radiated. He wanted it, and he wanted her, and he wanted to take it all for himself. But when she looked at him with those trusting eyes, he worried.

Hades didn't know what he had expected, when he touched his hand to hers. Perhaps for her to pull away. At best, for her to do nothing at all, and allow the contact to continue in comfortable silence. Yes, that is what he had imagined. When he touched her, he was reminded of the tingling energy they had felt in the lightning gardens. But this was a different sensation. It was warm, and welcoming. But there was a certain element of electricity to it, which poured through him like a pleasant fire.

Persephone surprised him when she moved to hold and examine his hand, but he did not pull away. He watched the curiosity in her eyes and he honestly felt that he couldn't help but smile at her. He may not have ever smiled so much in a month, let alone a night, and yet somehow it felt the most natural thing in the world to him now.

She lifted his hand, and with it everything inside of him felt... lighter. And it wasn't the dizzy-headed sort of lightness he had felt that when he just couldn't believe how close she came to him. This was the feeling that he could leap from the tree and run wild through the forest. The dark god did not run. This was her energy.

This girl before him-this goddess of spring and youth and life-had unlocked passion in a god with a face of stone. She rested her head in his hand and she felt soothed, and at peace. She didn't have to do anything but touch him, and he trembled at the sensation.

"Persephone," he said. And it was a whisper, but it held the stutters of a quiet laugh. He brought up his free hand to stroke her hair, not hesitating as he would have before. He said her name again, "Oh, Persephone," shaking his head in disbelief at the fire she inspired within him. He had no other words to say, no questions to ask, or feelings to doubt. He just needed to touch her.

ooOoo

She wanted to reply, but she couldn't will herself to move her head away from his hand. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, but she didn't move away or protest when he began to stroke her hair. The voice in her head that warned her to be cautious and demanded that she think of modesty and propriety was silenced by the cool sensation spreading through her body. She felt still and peaceful, and this feeling soothed her fears. She smiled as he touched her, feeling even the fibers of her hair settle into stillness. In his hand's wake, her hair felt cool and limp, as if it was heavy with water.

The only thing she wanted, the only desire that was left within her heart, was to be closer to him. She wanted to be surrounded by him. She wanted every inch of her skin to feel calm and cool and free of worry and stress. She wanted to make a new cocoon out of him, surrounding her from the rest of the world until she was hidden away from the sky and earth. She wanted to float away into his skin until there was nothing left for her mother to protect or her father to claim.

Without moving his hand away from her face, she leaned her body closer to him, feeling her limbs move gracefully with the new stillness. She felt no hesitation or fear as she moved to press her warm little nose against his neck, burying her face against his skin. She held his hand against her exposed cheek, and she let out a breath of warm air against him, losing herself to being covered and surrounded by him. She was hidden and protected, in a way that she had never known before, in a way that made her lost to the world. She felt his power, even through the calm spreading over her, and nothing would be able to reach her through him.

She smiled against his neck and brought the rest of her tiny pixie body into his lap, shivering and closing her eyes as she felt the rest of her body cool. She shivered in sweet coolness until she felt her body become so wonderfully heavy, so refreshingly drained, that she completely relented into his grasp. She let go, letting her body go limp and passive against his. She was awake and keenly aware of the trembling sensations he sent across her skin, but she felt too heavy to resist him or protest. She doubted that she would want to fight him away, no matter the consequences. She wanted to stay close to him, regardless of what he was truly intending.

"Hades..." She whispered, saying his name without title, as if they were equals. She said it because it was the most natural thing in the world for her to say, and it was the only word she could possibly find the strength to utter. Her hand that had been around his neck fell away until it was merely leaning against his chest, and her head fell away from his neck until it leaned against his shoulder, putting all of her bird-like weight against him. Her hand fell away from his, leaving his hand free from her cheek if he chose to move it, and it fell away to fall across her lap. She looked up at him through nearly closed eyes, submitting to the way he made her feel. She let go of her control and her own strength and let the heavy cold spread through her. It was claiming her, and she let go to it. She smiled as she looked up at his face, sighing once more, her lips parting. She mouthed his name again, but she was getting so lost in his cold energy, so completely lost, that she didn't even use her voice to speak.

ooOoo

He couldn't spare a thought to be astonished that Persephone did not protest his touch. Everything, for a moment, felt so right-even that the God of the Underworld should be perched like a nymph in a tree full of flowers.

When she moved closer to him, the warmth pulsing through his body felt suddenly white-hot in his chest. She curled against him and buried her face in his neck, and he leaned into her and consented to her every movement. But he could not be calm, with the energy she was giving him. The very sound of his name in her sparrow-song voice made him shudder.

Hades couldn't believe what was happening. He looked at her face, and saw that her eyes couldn't stay open, and that she was succumbing to what she felt from him, as well. And it felt so good to have her lay against him, and for her to not be afraid and him to not have to be cautious, that he put no more thought into than that.

While one hand still cradled her head, fingers tangled in her golden-brown hair, the other she released and he allowed it to trail down her side. He caressed her arm, and his fingers glanced upon her leg, and then he brought it behind her for a full embrace. He pulled her close, and he sighed into her hair. She clung to him like a newborn babe seeking protection, and he murmured "I'm here. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

As he spoke, he felt more in control of what he was doing. He pulled away from her, though only just, and he brought his hand back to hers. He squeezed her hand, needing the affirmation that she was truly there. And he tilted her head back to look her in the eyes. His face hovered inches from hers, and his lips were poised with the promise of a word. Perhaps her name, perhaps a secret. Whatever it was, he let it go, and leaned in to press his lips to hers.


	9. Chapter 9

She felt his hand moving over her, but she never fought him or protested. She sighed, but did not comment as he made her shiver even more by touching the parts of her that no one else had ever touched. She could feel the warmth within her being pulled right out of her, and she briefly wondered if she should feel offended or scared by how he was stealing her warmth. But she was an immortal, a goddess, and her warmth and life was her own. Nothing could take it away from her, even the very hands of death. He could trap her here for eternity if he wished, but she would not succumb to death as mortals did. The little life that mortals held blossomed into youth and beauty, but eventually, it shriveled up in old age until death took it all from them. But she was the goddess of life and spring, and her life was never ending. He could absorb warmth from her skin for centuries if he wished, and she would never stop producing life from her body. And from the way he touched her, and the coolness running through her veins, she did not believe that she would mind much if he did keep her here for centuries.

He whispered to her in a comforting way and all thoughts left her mind. Her mother said that to her often, but it never held the same amount of comfort that it did when he said it. Persephone had been creating cocoons and caves and burrows her entire life, but nothing had offered the kind of protection she had desired from it. She felt invisible and hidden, where no god could take her and no mother to reprimand her for the way things were.

She felt him tilt her head back to look at him and forced her eyes to focus on him. Her body was completely limp and heavy, and he could move her any way he wished without her so much as blinking in protest, for the more that he took from her, the more she relented. He took all of her energy away from her, leaving her in an extremely weak, yet peacefully passive state. She felt emotions within her heart that he could not take from her, for her heart belonged to her, and she felt a private thrill when he pressed his lips to hers. Touching her skin had drained her energy, yet kissing him made her body and spirit relent all that she had left, giving it all to him. She could literally feel the warmth and the life being sucked out from her essence as she kissed him, yet it was never ending. She felt his cold peaceful energy flow through her body, like a cold river suddenly flowing within her. She moved with him, her lips responding to this, wanting more and more of this cold power to fill her. It chilled her bones and muscles so much that she could not move even if she wished to, yet it still _moved_ within her. There was a different kind of life moving within her, something cold and soothing and active. It wanted control over her, which she was too happy to give, yet it mixed with her own life, and fire and ice battled within her until she was moaning into his mouth. It was cool water moving around resilient fire, moving through her legs and arms, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

He held her closer and closer, and she realized that even though he made her body shiver from his cool energy, the flow of cold power that moved within her was unable to fight the heat in her core places. Her heart remained untouchable, the cool river flowing around it, yet never touching it. The river flowed through her mind, but there were thoughts that lingered that it could not touch. And although it flowed throughout her body, it could not touch her most precious places. There was heat near her breasts, and between her hips, for the coolness could not touch her femininity. She was a goddess of youth, beauty, springtime, innocence, but until this moment, she never realized that she was also a uniquely feminine power.

Demeter was mother earth. She was a feminine goddess in that she was a mother to all that needed her and lived within her domain. But Persephone was a goddess of a different feminine power. She was a goddess of the spring, of fertility, and she realized that her mother had never let her realize this with all of her protection. She could be physically taken, but where all looked to Demeter for motherly protection, Persephone was a creation goddess, one whose power came from the sexual and lovers side of womanhood. Persephone had never realized her own power until the cool masculine energy from _death_ was unable to defeat the very essence of fertility, creation, passion, and life.

He was nearly crushing her to him, but from all of his numbing energy, she found her strength in the heat that he could not touch. She moved her arms around him, holding him just as close, using pure feminine energy to kiss him back just as passionately and hungrily.

But her awakening was too powerful to be contained privately. It influenced the tree which absorbed it and produced giant new flowers of dark reds, blues, purples, and golds, overpowering the white flowers until there were white petals falling to the ground. Some petals floated in the breeze, scattering across the earth, which felt the tiny petals fall as sharp pricks. The earth trembled as Demeter felt the strange energy from her daughter flow into the soil, and she responded immediately. The soil vibrated as Demeter followed the feeling of the petals, and she approached quickly, even though she came from far, far away. She could not run as quickly as Persephone, so the older goddess gave them time, but the tree trembled in her approach.

Persephone realized what this meant and even though her entire being fought against it, she pushed away from Hades steadying her arms against him to keep him at a distance.

"My mother is coming!" She whispered through heavy breathing. "You must go! She cannot find you with me!"

She didn't want to let go of him, but she struggled to get out of his grasp. Regretfully, she began pulling herself out of his embrace. She felt like crying when she felt her own warmth returning to banish the feeling of cool energy flowing within her.

"She will fight for me, she cannot find you here!" Demeter would trap her somewhere and never let her roam free again. Persephone knew that her mother meant well, but the thought of being trapped somewhere, even by her mother, frightened her more than anything. She worried that her mother might challenge Hades. Demeter would fall, and it would be Persephone's fault.

"Please, you must leave. I'm sorry for it, but she cannot find you with me!"

ooOoo

Hades lost himself in her warmth. All he could think about was touching her, feeling that energy coursing through him. Though she rested limply in his arms, every slightest movement she made against him sent a new surge of fire to his core. Kissing her was like kissing light. And it was a light that wasn't cruel to him, but rather that filled him with a heat he never knew he craved. He held her closer and closer against him, never wanting it to stop.

There was no cold left within him. Though his touch calmed and cooled her, to _give_ that stillness was not where his power lied. Death is the absence of everything considered good, and light. And so he took it from her, fed on her, and became like a mortal drunk on the sweetest wine he'd ever tasted. And he knew he could never take it all, but he yearned for it, and he could not make himself stop. The dark god who hid from his brethren and turned his face away from life, he yearned for it all the same.

And even as he knew he could not consume her with his power, he hadn't expected her to find control of her own strength so quickly. Had it been quickly? He could almost believe that they'd been there for days, oblivious to the rises and settings of the sun because it was nothing compared to Persephone's light.

She pushed back against him in their passions and he made no protest. He wanted that. He hadn't known it till she did, but he wanted her to act on those desires. In flaunting the powers she had that he could never touch, she made him want her more.

Flowers burst from the tree around them and the whole world seemed to tremble. He knew these things but could not think on them with this spring goddess pouring life into him through his very skin. His hands had long forgotten restraint and he clutched her wherever he could; he squeezed her waist as she struggled against him. And then her breathy words cut through his dizzy mind.

Hades could only look at her, breathing and slowly beginning to shake his head. "No," he said, soft. He wasn't even sure what he was protesting. Persephone kept talking and she pulled herself away, along with all that she had given him.

He understood her words but he kept shaking his head, and reaching out for her. Demeter was coming, but he didn't care. She couldn't take her from him. She couldn't. But, the fear in Persephone's voice cut through him. Though he ached for the loss of her warmth, without it his mind was clearing.

"No," he said again, but stern. He grabbed for her hands and pulled her back to look at him.

"Come with me," he pleaded. Suddenly he saw no other option, no need for more deliberation. He brought his hand up to her face. His touch was soft, his hand shaking slightly as he adjusted to the feel of his own emptiness. Still, he could feel a gentle glow from her, and it fueled his conviction.

"She can't touch you, if you come with me. None of them would dare."

ooOoo

No.

_No?_

That word echoed in her mind. She heard it over and over again, but she didn't understand it a single time. What did he mean no? It wasn't enough. He couldn't just say no. He couldn't refuse to leave. Her mother was coming!

He forced her to look at him, holding her hands too tightly for her to pull away from him. She blinked, and blinked... and remembered to inhale.

She whispered to him, "What?"

He was asking her to leave… To run away with him? To leave her mother, and the rest of the world behind, for his realm? It was so sudden and soon... and so tempting. She could feel the fury of her mother through the earth. The fury was getting closer and closer, and it was tempting to run away from it. The idea of running away to a place where her mother could not lock her away and spend the rest of eternity kissing the god holding her hands was more than tempting. But it was wrong.

She could not run away from her mother. As much as Persephone feared her mother's wrath, she loved Demeter. She was a loyal daughter, and she would never betray her mother by leaving with a god that Persephone had known less than a night. And Persephone was a goddess and a daughter of the God of the Skies and Goddess of the Earth. She was not like a nymph. They ran after any mortal man that they fancied without thought of consequence. The other gods and goddesses were not much better. Aphrodite slept with any immortal and mortal that she fancied, and Zeus seduced mortal woman on a daily basis. She would not be one of them. She was not a goddess that ran away from her family and her responsibilities just because she fancied a god.

She knew that it was more than that. She knew that whatever strange connection she had with Hades, it was more than just a fancy. But it wasn't enough, not yet.

"I can't... I can't leave with you." She said, but added fearfully, "I want to see you again, I don't want you to leave..."

Even though she was refusing to leave with him, she was worried that he would be so angry that he would leave her forever. "But I can't leave my mother. And I can't just run away with you... I can't! Please, leave. My mother will be so angry and irrational, and I'm afraid for her... Please."

Her eyes began to fill with tears and she (rather regretfully) began to pull away from him again.


	10. Chapter 10

Hades studied her face, deliberating over every trace of emotion that crossed her. He had known his request was not a simple one, but he expected that once she saw the truth of his words, Persephone could not turn him down.

She was scared; he understood that, and in some way he counted on it. He saw the temptation flickering like a weak flame in her eyes. He drew in a breath and held it, waiting, unable to put his yearning into words.

But, though she wanted to, and he could see that she wanted to, there was fear in her decision. Fear for her mother, yes, but that wasn't all of it. She feared for herself, and what would become of her. He felt he knew her answer a moment before she said it. _I can't_. The words echoed in his thoughts.

"Persephone..." he whispered her name, shaking his head just slightly. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she pulled away from him again. Empty, now, he closed his fingers into a fist. But though he clenched his teeth and turned down his eyes, he did not lash out in anger.

"I understand," he said. But his voice was flat and cold, not the sound of understanding at all. He saw that her fear kept her from doing what she truly wanted—what was right for her. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him. She just didn't know how to take that next step. And, as he looked at her, Hades knew he was going to have to take that step for her. But, not now. She was crying, and her mother would be here any moment. He hated to see her so distressed.

He could wait. To take her now would be to ruin everything they had just experienced, and he couldn't stain that memory for her.

Hades reached for his helmet, but he held it in his lap as he looked at her for a moment more. He shifted, slightly, thinking he wanted to kiss her just once more. But, he knew if he did, he would never be able to leave.

"I'll come back," he told her gently. And he lifted the helmet over his head before either of them could change their minds. As it slid over his features, the dark god appeared to fade into flower petals and moonlight.

ooOoo

She smiled through her fear when he promised that he would be back. She was worried that he would be disgusted with her for asking him to hide from her mother. Even though she now knew that Hades was not the dark god of her mother's stories, he was still one of the Three, and the King of the Underworld did not need to hide from anyone. But he gave into her wishes, and she was able to whisper a grateful "Thank you" before he put on his helmet and disappeared.

She looked at the space where he had been for several moments, before taking a deep breath and composing herself. She made sure that her cheeks were free from tears and her appearance was smooth and undisturbed. Nothing lingered on her skin for her mother to feel, for Hades left nothing that could be sensed by two beings that thrived on life.

Her mother appeared beneath her tree quickly, and Persephone looked down from her branch without smiling. Demeter looked livid and alert, but after looking around and feeling the air, she developed a look of confusion and suspicion.

"Hello Mother." Persephone said lightly, trying desperately not to reveal anything with her expression.

"Persephone. Come down from that tree."

Persephone did as she was told, simply falling from the tree and daintily landing on her toes. Demeter looked her up and down, expecting to find something different or lingering about her, but she found nothing out of the ordinary.

"You look pale." She said. Persephone could not claim that she did not feel well, nor could she came that the weather was making her cold. There was no explanation to give her mother, and the truth was out of the question. How could she explain that she had the life drained out of her by kissing the God of Death?

There was no lie that she could tell, so she remained silent.

"Why did you create _those_ dreadful little things?" Demeter asked, looking at the pointed red flowers that had blossomed during Persephone's discovery of her own passion. There was no explanation for those either. Persephone thought they were beautiful. But, the feeling that had created them had gone into the earth, and Demeter had felt what her daughter had felt. She was not really asking about the flowers. Demeter was asking who had made Persephone feel such desire to inspire them.

"I think they are pretty." She replied, shrugging.

"Really."

"Yes."

Demeter narrowed her eyes at her daughter, surprised that Persephone was not shying away from her questions. Persephone had always been a meek little child, especially with her mother, but Persephone now answered everything coolly. Demeter could not prove or even sense anything strange about this situation, but there was something odd going on.

"What were you thinking about when you created these?"

Persephone thought for a second, knowing her mother was trying to discover the purpose of these flowers. She decided to tell her mother the truth... Or at least, part of the truth. Demeter would not stop questioning her until she found something, and Persephone decided that it would be better to create a small problem to distract Demeter from discovering the real reason.

"I was thinking of the God of the Underworld… We talked earlier, at the ceremony," she said. "He told me I was pretty, and he told me about his realm. He was nice to me… And the flowers created themselves while I thought of our conversation."

Demeter accepted it completely, believing that her daughter had just confessed the truth. There was nothing to give her evidence of anything more than that, so she began berating her daughter about what she believed to be the only problem.

Demeter repeated her opinions on why it was dangerous to trust the other Gods, and she became particularly nasty about Hades. She said terrible things about him, but Persephone did not let any of her words influence her. The only emotion Persephone's face betrayed was fear. Persephone was worried that Hades still lingered, and he would hear her mother's words and take his vengeance. It was best to let Demeter get her ranting out of her system, so Persephone did not interrupt. Her mother ranted for a little while, but eventually lost most of her steam, and she was silent for a few moments.

"What do you plan to do with this absurd tree?"

Persephone's face shot up, losing all fear, and she boldly answered her mother. "I'm keeping it here. I'm fond of it now."

"It's ridiculous to leave a tree in the middle of a field. What if mortals noticed it? It's obviously not normal. They would declare it holy, or something equally absurd."

"Let them." Persephone replied. "I do not demand anything out of mortals. I have no temples or statues, nor do I wish for one, but I am keeping this tree. If mortals find it, and declare it sacred, it shall be so. Any who show kindness and respect to this tree shall have my blessing."

It was as though Persephone had cast a spell, and the tree instantly became protected. Persephone could feel the tree in a way that she felt no other living thing... She could tell that if any mortal or any being whispered words to it, she would be able to hear it. And all immortals would feel that this tree was sacred. To destroy it would be to knowingly offend a goddess.

And Demeter knew this. "Well, of all of the foolish things!"

But she relented despite her disgust. "Come with me, Persephone. You are staying close to me tonight." And her daughter nodded, knowing that her battle was over.

She hoped that if Hades was still around, he understood the significance of her claiming the tree as being special. Her mother would have destroyed it, but Persephone thought it was too precious (and it meant too much for her personally) to step aside. She would not leave with him out of loyalty to herself and her mother, but she would defy her mother to protect their tree. It was a small gesture on her part, but her little victory had made their tree sacred, and the little red flowers blossomed with a new essence of supernatural goodwill towards mortals. The tree itself knew of its importance.

ooOoo

As Persephone suspected, the dark god had not left her completely when he donned his silver helm. He watched her with a stirring at his core as she wiped away her tears, and dropped from the tree as lightly as her flower petals. But he moved to a distance as Demeter confronted her daughter. He lingered on the edge of the field, knowing he should leave, but thinking how good it would be to hear her voice for just a moment longer.

He smiled a crooked smirk when Persephone admitted that the flowers were born of her thoughts of him. Seeing her stand her ground against her mother in that small way was very satisfying, and seeing the passing expressions on Demeter's face was more so. He wasn't certain she had fully bought the story, or at least not that her daughter's thoughts had been purely innocent. For all her insistence that Persephone needed her protection, surely even she could see that the spring goddess was a child no longer.

It didn't anger him, as such, to hear Demeter condemning all that he was. The other gods could kneel to his power and speak of his greatness all they wanted, but he knew how most really thought of him. And Demeter, with her distrust of men, had that aversion two-fold or more. No, her words didn't anger him. But, he didn't like to see Persephone talked down to in that way. He felt for her. Demeter kept her away from anything that might touch her, and Hades knew how lonely such an existence could be.

Hades wanted to go to her. He could steal her away there and then; Demeter was nothing to him. And it wasn't even the knowledge of Persephone's own love for her mother that stopped him. Rather, Hades knew that Persephone had to face this on her own. She had to be reminded of what he was going to take her away from—for he knew without a doubt now that he would be taking her away. And she had to be ready for it. He wished her strength, and patience to survive her mother. And he started to leave her to it.

He only stopped when he heard Demeter ask about the tree. A slow smile spread across his unseen features as Persephone gave her answer. He didn't have the fondness for flowers that she did, but of course he knew the truth of why the tree was special to her. And he silently thanked her for it. If that tree, and the feelings that bloomed it, were sacred in her eyes... then he knew that she would come with him, when the time was right. He would be watching.


	11. Chapter 11

The world had never witnessed such beauty. Flowers covered the fields in a way that the world had never seen before. Crops grew not only large and plentiful, but beautifully too. Apples were never as red and delicious, grapes were never so juicy and plump, and pomegranates were never so intoxicating. All across the land, there was beauty and sweetness, and the spring goddess could not help but push the world further.

She had never felt so restless and alive. Perhaps it was because she had felt what it was like to be still, before he left her. He had left her, as she had asked him to, but now she was no longer still. She ran all across the earth now, whispering her restlessness to the earth, and the earth responded to her with beauty and sweetness. Her mother knew nothing of this, but she felt the earth blossoming from her daughter's influence, and Demeter worried about the changes she saw in her.

Mortals found the special tree within a day, and they had recognized its beauty and supernatural nature. They built a shrine to it, the first dedicated to Persephone, and she was ever vigilant over the mortals who prayed there. She was grateful to them, as blessing them eased the overwhelming pressure of the burning life and restlessness within her.

An old woman prayed for youth, for she was growing too weak to work. She had no family to care for her, and her village could be ruthless with the ones who could not contribute. Persephone touched the old woman while her head was lowered in prayer to the tree, and the mortal felt a new life run through her old bones. She looked the same, but felt a strength in her that she hadn't felt in years, and she felt strong enough to continue earning her small keep in the village.

A mortal man, hard and marked from the trials of war, passed the tree on his way back home. He had been away hunting, and he was carrying some birds in to sell to the other villagers. His body was too tired for his age, as a hard and loveless life had aged him. He was as tired within his soul as he was in his body. He felt no passion or life within him, and he never felt anything for other human beings.

He stopped by the shrine, not to pay respects, but to seek shade beneath the tree. He sat quietly, resting, but the scent of the flowers softened him enough to draw his eyes upwards. He looked at the flowers in the tree, and without realizing it, his thoughts drifted to a woman in the village. He had never entertained thoughts of her before, but she had meant enough to him to make a place for herself in his subconscious mind, and he was surprised to find that he liked thinking about her.

She was a barmaid, and a good woman, even though the rest of the town looked down on her for serving men inside of a tavern. But she spoke kindly to him when he went for dinner and ale, and she always made sure there was a place for him by the fire. She was kind and pretty, and she never demanded attention from him as other women tried. She never asked about his war stories, knowing that he didn't want to talk about his past. All of this time, he assumed he only went because he had no family to cook for him, and a hot meal was nice at the end of a long day. But with the scent of the flowers all around him, he realized that she was the reason why he kept going back to the tavern.

He had no idea how to approach her with his newly discovered feelings, and this almost caused him to despair. But the tree was kind, and it took pity on him, and Persephone heard the small request from the tree on his behalf. She came immediately, but remained unseen, watching the man struggle with the first feelings of passion that he had ever known. The scars on his body whispered of his unhappy and lonely life, and Persephone felt sorry for him. In a strange, small way, he reminded her of the one that left her behind. The one that had kissed her with a cold passion that she still longed for. He was cold and frightening and completely unlike what everyone believed him to be. She felt so sorry for the poor mortal, for he was not an old man.

She reached down and touched his forehead, granting him some of the unending life that flowed within her. The new spark hit him immediately, and he felt the same youth and the same eagerness for life that he felt when he was a boy. He hadn't felt so alive since before his mother died, when life first began its unforgiving treatment to him.

"Tell her the truth," Persephone whispered to him. "Tell her everything. Tell her your past, to help her understand. But tell her the future too. Tell her you want to be with her for the rest of your days. Tell her you want to make a family with her. Tell her that you want to be happy, and you want to make her happy too."

She was not hoping to help two mortals fall in love. She was not a love goddess. But it was her domain to encourage life, and resurrecting life within this man, and lead them to make a family, supporting life.

A small flower fell from the tree, falling into the mortal man's lap. It was a special gift from her tree, for its scent was intoxicating and luscious. Persephone smiled and pet a branch of the tree, thanking it for its support and compassion. Her sweet, special friend...

"Take it to her," She whispered. The man immediately got up and went quickly towards his village, a new bounce in his step and a smile across his face.

Days later, a happily engaged barmaid came to the tree and placed a few, yet precious possessions next to the tree. There were dried petals from the flower, a little doll that was worn and broken, and an old dress that had belonged to the woman's mother. They were scraps and completely irrelevant to the world, but Persephone knew the great sacrifice of the sentimental value the woman was giving up. The woman was smiling and happy, and she whispered words of thanks and love to the tree, glowing in her new happiness. The tree responded, and Persephone could feel its pride.

Perhaps the other immortals would value their powers and learn compassion, if they could understand how to value creatures as seeds instead of powerful trees. Persephone had loved the seed, and now there was a warm and sweet tree that called for compassion on behalf of the mortals.

When the woman went away, Persephone became melancholy with thoughts of love. She roamed the fields, surrounded by flowers, walking solemnly. He had promised to return to her, but he hadn't send word at all. Perhaps he was offended by her refusal to go with him... But couldn't he understand? She couldn't leave now. She couldn't abandon her mother, not for anything. For all of her overprotectiveness, Persephone loved her mother. And she couldn't stand the thought of being the type of goddess that ran away with a god, as if she was no better than a lustful wood nymph. She would never become another god's harlot, even if it was for Hades…

But it was more than that. She had just found her great power, and she had great plans for the world. She wanted to make this beauty last for all eternity. Persephone had never asserted herself in the world before now, but it was beginning to take notice of her. She wanted to help mortals live for as long as possible, physically and spiritually. She wanted to help make people happy, like she had done today. She wanted to bring a new life and happiness to the world of mortals, and she could not do that in the Underworld.

She stood in the middle of the field, the sun and wind swirling around her skin, dancing with the life that clung to her. She stood, resolved and tall, looking forward with her new plan.

The only thought that held her back was that she wished she do all of this, and yet have him too.

ooOoo

Nothing changed in the Underworld. Nothing ever changed, there. The dead crossed the river, or they didn't, and were lost. Souls were judged and sent to wherever they would spend the rest of their existence: the punishment of Tartarus, the bliss of the Elysian Fields, or for most, the unending sea of flowers and sorrows in the Meadows of Asphodel. The Furies raged, the Fates spun their threads; Immortal servants tended to the small work, and the great lord Hades oversaw it all.

There were whispers and questionable notions that the dark god was not himself. Hades had always been stern, and cold, and quiet. But had he become more so, since the Ceremony of the Three? There were long stretches of time when he didn't seem to speak a word to anyone—only a harsh glare to anyone who disturbed him, and a wave of his hand to dismiss matters of little importance. The workings of the Underworld were methodical and near-automatic; the usual order of things did not require much from him but to be feared and obeyed.

But then, there would come times when Lord Hades suddenly threw himself into his duties, becoming intensely concerned with every matter that might warrant his attention. In those times he became even more frightening, scrutinizing every detail and dealing harsh punishments where he saw fit. He was restless, as though there were nothing for him but giving orders and exercising his authority.

There was no discernible pattern to these moods. They came and went and came again with no word and no consistency. Time didn't pass in the Underworld, not like it did beneath the sun and moon and stars. Hades had no days, no nights, and the utter endlessness of it all was suffocating him. He frequented the seeing water, and he watched Persephone and the days passing by her. It may have been only a moment ago that he'd left her, or years gone past, for all of the ache inside of him when he remembered her warmth.

She was so sweet, so sweet; He saw her care for the mortals that came to her shrine and he sighed at her gentle nature. Every time he thought to go to her, he lost the fire that might spur him to action when he saw how content she was in looking after those simple people. He wasn't sure if he could take her away from that. To bring her to his realm would be asking her to spend the rest of her days among people who were beyond nurturing. The Underworld was a place to exist, and to rest, but not to grow.

And yet its lord could not rest. He yearned for the goddess of youth and flowers, and he feared that too much longer apart from her would be the end of him. He couldn't focus; He couldn't bear being alone with his thoughts, and yet he struggled to hold himself together around others. He needed her. He needed the spark she had given him, and taken away.

Hades looked upon her in the water, on the day the barmaid had come with her precious offerings. He did not see the woman, but he saw Persephone, roaming her fields with thoughts he wished he could know. And she was alone. Every other time he watched her, she was with the mortals at the shrine, or too near her mother or the chattering nymphs that would report to her. That's what he thought he'd been waiting for—for her to be alone.

But that was not what caught his attention. He had noticed it before, something about her in her dealings with the mortals. She encouraged love in them, not merely for the sake of life, but for some feeling he thought he saw hiding behind her eyes. And he saw it now as she stood among her flowers and her very presence gave vitality and motion to everything around her. It was a longing.

And knowing only his own ache, he couldn't see that she had plans for the world she looked upon. He saw that she was exactly where a goddess of her power should be, and yet she was not content. She was not at home. And he remembered her crying in the tree and he remembered the passionate fire she set beneath his skin. Gods, how he remembered that fire.

The remembrance of it, in the way of things that manage to fall into place so perfectly at just the simplest of changes, fueled him to action. It was finally the right time.

Nothing would have changed for Persephone, when the unseen god was suddenly in her presence. Hidden with his helmet's magical veil, he was undetectable. And yet, everything felt solid and palpable to him. The wind brought him the scent of her hair, and the light glinted off of her skin like a precious jewel. He felt warm, and it wasn't because of the sun. He felt almost, so almost, at peace. If he could just touch her, and give in to the sheer intoxication of her being.

Though he'd worn the helmet to time his appearance exactly to his choosing, he did not wish to startle her as he had the night they'd spent in the flowering tree. Behind her, he shed his invisibility. As though to make himself less startling in the sun, he did not wear the same gown of sparkling silver nor the stark black that was so expected of him. In dark blue, he approached her, accents of tarnished bronze and iron contrasted with his shining helm but befit his nature as a god beneath the earth.

"Persephone," he said simply, waiting for her to take notice of him and overcome any surprise she may feel. His voice was strong, free of the worries of his busy mind, but it was softened by the smile he allowed to sneak onto his face. "I'm here," he said. Reassuring, as though he had come to her when she was expecting him. "I'm here to bring you home."


	12. Chapter 12

She turned immediately, surprised at hearing her name called. She had not felt anyone, especially an immortal, approach her. She had been deep in thought, but not so deep that she would not have noticed another's presence. Once she spun around, her surprise melted away as she realized who was behind her.

Her face lit up, a smile spreading across her face. Without any hesitation, she moved toward him, genuinely happy to see him again. She had been worried that he would not want to see her after she begged him to leave. As the days had passed, she began to worry that he had lost interest in her, but seeing him now calmed all of her doubts. She moved to him happily, thinking about his cold touch and his sweet kisses. Her mind wandered to their moments in her tree, and she desperately wished that they were there beneath it again. The thought of the flowers and his kisses send a wild fire through her being and the air began to shake and buzz from the energy that he invoked within her. As she walked, little white flowers with streaks of deep red grew from the earth from her footsteps. A trail of dainty footprints grew into flowerbeds, releasing such a sweet and sharp scent that the nearby insects shook from the shock of it.

_I'm here_, he said, and her smile grew even brighter. She remembered how he whispered those words to her just before he kissed her lips, and she shuddered—releasing such a deep, hot breath that as the heavy breath fell upon the earth, the ordinary grass trembled and curled from her anticipation.

But just as she was about to reach out and touch him, she stopped at his words. Her smile faded just a little and her head tilted in confusion and curiosity.

"Home?" She asked pleasantly, a new smile breaking out on her face, as if she were suddenly realizing that he was just playing. "But I am home." She smiled again, enjoying their game. Oblivious to his plan, she moved on. "You waited so long... I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me anymore."

ooOoo

She was glad to see him. She hardly even seemed startled, and the smile that brightened her face echoed more subtly on his own. The very air around them felt alive with the joy of their reunion. It was perfect.

Persephone came to him and Hades held out his arms to her. He didn't respond to her questions right away, but took her hands, and gazed into her eyes, drinking it all in. His skin tingled with the energy she radiated, and he let out a slow sigh. With the stubbornness she'd shown before, and likely gotten from her mother, he knew that the picturesque scene would be fleeing fast. She would be reluctant, at first. He expected it, but did not look forward to it.

If only he could capture this moment, and keep it in a bottle as the grandest of his godly treasures. He needed to remember this. When she resisted him, he needed to remember how she truly felt when she was not concerned with obligations and propriety, when it was just the two of them.

Hades pulled her into a close embrace, and let the moment linger. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and again, quickly, on the lips. He couldn't do more; he couldn't keep them here. But he hoped she would calm, and listen.

"Never think that," he whispered. "I always want to see you. I didn't mean to wait so long. It needed to be the right time."

He held a hand at the back of her head, gently running his fingers through her hair as his eyes implored her to keep looking at him.

"But you don't have to worry anymore," even with the solemnity of his words, his face cracked into a hopeful smile. "I'm taking you home."

The hand that stroked her hair slid in a gentle caress down her arm. But when he took her wrists in his hands, though he was careful not to hurt her, his grip was firm. The electricity in the air around them was joined by a low rumble, a vibration that gradually became quite physical. The ground shook and Hades only then looked away from her golden eyes. The ground near them buckled and looked for a moment as though a hill were being raised, but then the earth burst open and the soft grass gave way to dirt and stone.

The movement settled, but there was still a hum in the air, and the bitter taste of power. In the dark chasm that stared at them, just barely the focused eye could see grey steps, descending.

Hades sighed, and couldn't yet bring himself to look at her again. He didn't want to see whatever may be in her eyes.

"Don't be afraid," he said. And he let go of just one hand, to lead her by the other into the darkness.

ooOoo

Persephone's eyes drifted closed when he kissed her forehead and shut completely when he kissed her lips. But she opened her eyes in surprised when he pulled away from the kiss so suddenly. She wanted a much longer kiss than that, but he seemed more interested in something else, and she was trying to understand him. In her mind, she admitted that she hadn't known him very well when she kissed him in the special tree, but she felt like she knew him well enough to see that he was behaving strangely.

She felt like she would have smiled had she not gotten so stuck on his words. The right time? For what? The joy that she had felt when he first arrived was beginning to crack, and suspicion and confusion began to tear down her happiness. Even with his beautiful smile, she felt hesitation and alarm growing, and she was beginning to suspect that there was more danger behind his constant repetitive use of the word "home".

The world began to tremble and shift and move, but it had nothing to do with her mother. It was unnatural moving, the kind that came without life. It was will and power that moved the earth, but the earth yielded under protest. She shut her eyes tight, beginning to tremble, knowing that whatever was happening was not a promise of good things to come. She had no worries of being injured, but the earth was being forced to break apart against its will, and Persephone could not bear to watch.

When she opened her eyes, she could see steps leading down into the earth, further down then she had ever believed possible. At some point, the steps seemed to stop and melt away into the thickest blackness she had ever seen in her life. She had seen darkness before, but this was not simply that. It was like unmoving floating ink, a darkness that was tangible and hungry. It seemed to consume all light, and just by looking at it, Persephone could tell that it would devour her happily. She could feel the darkness looking at her, a never-ending source of light to drain and consume, and she realized that she had never truly been frightened of anything in her entire immortal life before this moment.

Hades began pulling her towards the horrible darkness, telling her not to be afraid, but Persephone was so beyond terrified that she could barely comprehend his words. He pulled her a few steps, for he was very strong and easily overpowered her, but her desperate fear opened a source of strength that she had never known existed within her. Mortals would fight or flee with a new strength when they were faced with death, but immortals had no use for such survival instincts. But within the goddess of spring, the goddess of life, a desperate desire for life was awakened. Persephone summoned all of her strength, pulling back from Hades with all of her little might, and she was surprised at how much strength she found within herself. She managed to stop herself, holding firmly into the ground. She could not fight him off, but she felt that she was strong enough to stay in this one place long enough to resist him.

"Mother!" She cried out to the earth, sending a strong and terrified vibration through the earth, calling for her mother to come and rescue her. If Persephone could stay in this one place long enough for her mother to get here, she might be able to escape that horrible darkness.

"I don't want to go in the darkness! I belong here; this is my home! You can't do this! You can't steal me!" She screamed at him, desperately trying to pry his hand off of her wrist. Just a little longer—She could feel her mother approaching.

"You can't take me down there. I'll be trapped forever! How dare you try and take me away! Let me go; I demand that you let me go!"

ooOoo

She let her fear overtake her far faster than Hades anticipated, as he found when she could not even be coaxed a step closer to the descending stairs. Feeling her resistance, he had to turn to look at her now. And she was terrified.

"Persephone," he could do no more than whisper her name, looking at her with something like pain in his eyes. He knew she would not be accepting at first—her mother had so manipulated her for so long. But he had thought, at least, that she would merely be angry, and that she could forgive. But the fright he saw in her, at the merest glimpse of the world he ruled, he almost couldn't bear it.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he said, though the gentle words were all but lost amidst her screams and struggles. He shook his head, and wanted to say more. He wanted to say he was sorry. But, he knew she wouldn't hear it.

Still gripping her hand, and unaffected by her attempts to free herself save for the shadow of hurt in his expression, Hades set his free hand on her shoulder. Heavy, though he imparted no force, and cold. He wished he could comfort her. If he could only hold her now, and have her feel soothed and at peace as she had that night in the tree. But he worried that the fire of her fear and anger burned too fiercely for him to have much influence. And they had no time; she was calling for her mother.

She could steel herself against his strength, but she could not root herself immovably to the ground. Giving her no warning to attempt to do so, Hades let go of her hand only to immediately gather her up in his arms. He held her tightly against him, though cradled like a child: her head at his shoulder, one arm supporting her back and binding her arms to her sides, and the other wrapped around her legs.

"We have to go now," he said as he turned them both back to the wound in the earth, and advanced upon the stairs. "You know better, it would not end well for your mother to face me."

He meant the words only partially as a threat, hoping that the simple truth of it would calm her protests. But they had a long way to go, and time for her to understand.

ooOoo

She barely heard his words of reassurance. The darkness before them was drowning out any sound that came near it. She watched it devour all light that dared approach it, and she realized that it was now devouring sound too. What kind of darkness devoured sound?

She never had any experience with fear. Gods and goddesses never had to fear anything, but now she knew what mortals felt. How did they live with fear? It was the most terrible feeling she had ever known, and she had no idea how to control it. She wanted to run away from it and hide. Fear was terrible. She was willing to do anything to never experience fear again.

She was so absorbed by fear that she didn't realize that he was trying to calm her, even though he was standing right in front of her. She couldn't focus on anything until he had picked her up off the ground and pinned her against him. At first, she was reminded of their time in the tree. He held her so tightly and all of her thoughts melted away, and she never wanted him to release her. It was so different now!

She wanted him to let her go and never speak to her again. She could feel the cold that his touch brought, yet it was not comforting anymore. It was chilling and paralyzing, and Persephone realized why mortals hated the cold. There was no life inside of that cold, no comfort. The cold intensified fear, giving her no relief. And if there was any he could have comforted her while taking her into the dark, he crushed any chance of that when he reminded her that her mother was no match for him.

Of course, she knew that. Everyone knew that. She just didn't know that he was _willing_ to conquer her mother. She believed that he wouldn't do anything to harm her, including harm her dear mother. He had left when she begged him not to fight her mother, and he had left for her sake. What had changed? She had fallen even more deeply for him when he had left instead of fighting. He had the power to fight, but he left for her sake, which was more than any god would ever do. She thought he was different and special for respecting her wishes more than he valued his pride, but she was wrong about him.

He did not respect her wishes. Perhaps no male could ever truly respect the wishes of a woman over his own desires and pride. He did not care about what she wanted. He hadn't left because he was concerned with her wishes. He left because he was clever, and he saw a better opportunity in the future.


	13. Chapter 13

Even on the first of the steps, with sunlight still upon them, a cold air drifted up from the depths and enveloped the dark god and his spring goddess. Soon, there was nothing but the cold. There was wetness in the dark—a dewy chill in the air, and glistening moisture on the cave's weeping walls. Somewhere beyond the veil of darkness there was a sound that may have been the murmuring of water, and a distorted dripping that sounded less like itself the more one listened.

Hades moved down steep and treacherous steps without the need to see, and he was glad for a moment that she could neither see him. He didn't speak to her, though he wanted to offer her words of comfort and love; not here. He made himself like stone, both against her physical struggles and any words or sounds borne of her fear. There was nothing he could say, here and now, to help her. It would be better, soon.

As the bottom of the steps approached, an unearthly light began to break through the emptiness. It should probably not even be described as light, but rather, a softness. A touch of color and smoky mist that lent outlines to the two immortals and the cavern around them. The sound of water grew louder, though the sound was still and perhaps not akin at all to the sounds beneath the darkness of the stairwell.

Suddenly, everything opened up before them. Hades stepped out into a cave that was not a cave—a space that was dark and cold that had the distinct feeling of being _inside_, though every direction that one looked there was no ceiling or walls except around the cave from whence they came. And even that, now, appeared to be the foot of a great mountain, whose top they could not see and whose sides curved sharply away from the river that lay before them.

The water was black, inky black, though that may only be the world around them reflected in its surface. For a moment there was nothing, only the water and the fog. But then a light penetrated the silvery mists. A light it was in truth, but small and threatened by the darkness around it. It shone, but only so far, before the very nature of the Underworld devoured its efforts.

The light was attached to the front of a small boat, which came to rest at the edge of the water, waiting. Hades moved closer and the ferryman at the boat's head came into to view. Only just, as his cloak was black as everything else and it cast a shadow over any glimpse of his true features. The man, or spirit, or whatever it may be, nodded his head respectfully to his approaching lord.

Hades stopped before stepping onto the boat. Without looking at her, he asked Persephone, "May I set you down?" and the intent of the question was clear. Would she ride in the boat with him, without causing trouble, knowing there was no place for her to run? Or would she continue to assert her light and her life against the power of all that she was not?

ooOoo

He began walking into the dark with her, and Persephone began to cry. She couldn't help but letting a small whimper as they walked into the terrible darkness. But, soon her fear was overpowered by her frustration and anger, even as the dark touched her skin—which was painful for a creature that had never been touched by darkness. She could feel it wash over her and creep all over her skin. Her fear was overpowered by her despair.

All along, her mother had been right. Her mother knew that all men were like this. And because of her daughter's foolishness, because of Persephone's naivety, she had trusted a being that her mother had always warned against. She was trapped and all hope was lost. She would be taken and kept away from her mother for all eternity, all because she had believed that this one god could be different. But he wasn't different; he just played a different game from the rest.

"I am such a fool." She said through her tears. She didn't speak again for the rest of their journey, but her tears became more and more sorrowful. She trembled with fear, but her tears grew deeper and deeper with despair. She knew it was all over... She might never see the sunlight again. She would be trapped in this darkness, in the cold, for all eternity, all for the pleasure of her captor. And when her thoughts went further than that, she shivered with a new fear of what his plans were for her. He was her father's brother after all.

She knew they were moving, and she knew it was getting colder and colder, but she couldn't see anything. He could have been standing still and gently rocking her for all she could tell. Eventually, she saw a small something through the darkness. She couldn't call it light, but it wasn't darkness either. It was just… a brighter darkness, strangely.

They came to a strange dark water that was unlike any she had ever seen before. It was thick and dark and it reflected nothing. As frightening as the darkness was, she found that she would rather be back in total darkness then go anywhere near that awful stuff. As they came closer and closer, she realized that the soft, tiny light, which was not even as bright as the light that radiated off of her own skin, was attached to a boat. Inside of a boat was a ferryman that she could not really see well. Her eyes had a difficult time adjusting to the darkness, even with the light, and her tears made it even more difficult. But, it was like he wasn't real; He was a shadow that moved on his own. He was darkness that was alive. She had nothing to fear from him of course—for she was a goddess—and even in this darkness, she could tell that there was nothing this spirit could do to harm her. But he certainly didn't make her happy. The only thing she really had to fear was the being holding her. Hades was the only one that could overpower her, but this was his kingdom. She had no power against him, and the thoughts of his intentions brought a new wave of fear and despair into her heart.

He hadn't spoken a word to her the entire journey. He didn't speak to her... And Persephone realized that he didn't care about speaking to her. Whatever impressions she had gotten of him from their tree was a lie. He wanted to deceive her enough for this moment. He must have been planning this from the moment he met her, and she was stupid enough to fall for his tricks. He didn't care about her feelings or how terrified she was. He only cared about one thing: keeping her here forever, against her will, all for his own pleasure. He would keep her down here, regardless of how she felt about it, because how she felt was irrelevant to him. He had tricked her, and now he would keep her here to force himself on her whenever he pleased. He would do his brother, her father, proud.

When he asked if he could put her down in the boat, she understood the question. He was asking if he could put her down without a fuss. As terrified as she was of him, she couldn't stand how he was speaking to her now. It was condescending, and no one had ever spoken to her that way. She was sad and scared, but she was a goddess, even if she wasn't as strong as he was. She took a deep breath and slowed her tears long enough to raise her eyes and glare at him.

"Put. Me. Down." She said slowly and hatefully. She could do nothing in this darkness and cold. She could feel her powers limited in this world, so she knew there was nothing she could do to fight him. But the more she thought about it, she could feel a coldness of her very own spreading through her heart, and she wanted to move away from him immediately. She might be trapped in the darkness and cold, but she would not be in his arms.

ooOoo

Persephone's words cut through him like a hot knife, but the dark god's still expression did not change. Hades set her down, slowly, silently, and felt the warmth of her closeness melt away from him. Where it left, he did not regain himself. He was just… empty.

But he would not allow himself to think his actions a mistake. He looked at her, finally, in that whispering darkness. And she was beautiful.

For all that the power of his realm had tried to steal the light from her, she kept herself, perhaps better than she knew. She was color and life in a place that knew them only as distant memories. She could not shine like the sun, for the Underworld quenched all that was given, but she held light in her skin and in her eyes. She could be a goddess of the moon or the stars with such a light that defied the darkness but did not break it. It was cruel and yet fitting that the God of the Underworld should lose his splendor in the harsh light of day, yet the earth's Goddess of Life, brought into his world, became only a different kind of magnificent.

Her face was wet with the tears she had cried in their descent, but it was anger that stirred in her expression now. Hades clenched his teeth at the concrete sight of her anguish, and for a moment he had to avert his eyes again. He stepped into the boat, and only then did he turn back to her, thinking to offer his hand to steady her as she followed. But, he quickly thought better of it.

The boat began moving, almost imperceptively, as soon as the two of them were aboard. Though even that gentle of a motion may be enough to put one off balance, Hades remained standing, watching to see what Persephone would do.

He had put so much thought into how he would take her. He could have used his power to bring them straight to his castle, bypassing all these usual channels, and have her safe there even now. But she would still be screaming and fearful, and his home would be nothing but a prison in her eyes. A prison surrounded by darkness that she would never want to venture out and see.

This choice was harder for him, both to control her and to bear witness to the worst of her resistance, but he believed it would be the best for her. He could not make the transition from light to darkness any less stark, but at least for the rest of the way she would have time to calm and to process the strange world around her. Though already she looked at what little she had seen with fear and hatred, it was only because of the circumstances. She just needed time. Hades thought of Hera's words to him in the Heavenly Gardens, about how Persephone would learn to love being a queen. But it wasn't the titles and power that he hoped she could grow accustomed to.

"No harm will come to you here," he said, trying to offer comfort. His voice was as gentle as it had been in the flowering tree, but in the world that he ruled it was difficult for him to not seem commanding. He wanted so badly to gather her up again in his arms, and hold her close and kiss her and whisper soothing words. But he didn't want to frighten her, any more than she already was.

He moved closer to her and reached out a hand, cautious, just to brush his fingers past her hair. "Please don't be afraid," he said softly.

ooOoo

She got into the boat without a fuss, but she did not sit. The black water terrified her, and she did not want to get closer to it by sitting. Every movement the boat made was far too violent, and she could imagine the boat tipping over and the dark water swallowing her up. The ferrymen was rowing in very steady and smooth strokes, but no matter how still he kept the boat, she could just imagine falling into the thick blackness. The water didn't even make any sound.

He spoke to her, but she didn't reply. His words were meaningless. He had proven that he only cared for his own desires, and she would not accept any more lies. She thought back to their moments in her tree and how easily she had been tricked. At least other goddesses (and even mortal women) had the excuse of being forced physically by hungry gods. She had been defeated because she wasn't clever enough to see through his words. She had been shamed by her own foolishness and stupidity. But Persephone swore to learn from her mistake. All might be lost, and she might be trapped in this horrible darkness for all eternity, but she would learn from her mistake. She wasn't going to listen to his words anymore.

When he touched her hair, she couldn't hold back her anger any longer. She was careful not to move very much, in fear of the boat tipping over, but she turned to send him a glare that her mother would have been proud of.

"Don't you dare lie to me anymore. I will not listen to another word you say."

And with that, all of the anger that she could summon was gone, for it was against her nature to hold a grudge, even against a god that had destroyed her future. Life was about growing and moving forward, and the nature of hate went against the most basic concept of life. Hate lead to destruction, not creation, and Persephone had to make a great effort to hold on to it for very long. Once the powerful emotion faded away, her eyes lowered and the fierce anger melted away, leaving her features soft and pretty, although it was tainted with deep despair.

"I should have known though. You are my father's brother after all." She turned away from him, hoping to find a few moments of solitude before they reached their destination and all was lost. She wanted to be alone in her despair.

She wondered if her mother had even realized what had happened to her yet. She wondered if the rest of the gods and goddesses knew how Hades had tricked the stupid Persephone, and now she was a fallen goddess, trapped for all eternity in the Underworld. She thought of the tree, which had inspired Persephone to rise into her role as Goddess of Life. It had grown for her, but she had blessed it because of the moments she had shared with Hades, which were all lies.

Persephone had no way of knowing, but on the surface, her dear tree was dying. All of the flowers fell off of the trees, and it seemed as if it was completely dead. Demeter looked upon this tree, seeing it die on the outside, yet she felt that the core of the tree still lived and waited. And Persephone's mother knew that there was still hope.


End file.
